


Conquering the Ambassador

by Kruger_Crows



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dragons, F/F, Romance, and relationships, avoid if you're emetophobic, brief description of vomit, developing characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 75,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kruger_Crows/pseuds/Kruger_Crows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Summary updated) Ayre Trevelyan faces many plights; Least of all her romantic adventures with a certain Josephine Montilyet. As the world seems to turn towards her more, Ayre cannot seem to keep her sanity and still be a powerful figure. Through the canticles, she even wonders if she will end up more like Andraste than a simple herald.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Conquering the Ambassador**

 

* * *

"Goodness, these Val Chevin candies will be the death of me." Her ears twitched to the accented voice, but the downed Inquisitor couldn't bring herself to budge. It was foolish to have come here, instead of lying face-down in the grass. She had gotten sick, and on the Antivan ambassador's rug no less.

The door was opened, and suddenly her ears felt far too hot. "Inquisitor Trevelyan?! Are you quite- is that… vomit?"

"I was… struck by a sudden sickness on my way to your office. Please forgive me, I couldn't seem to control myself. I think… I blacked out." How long had she been here? Even she had barely a clue.

"Blacked out?" Josephine seemed absolutely bewildered, kneeling at her side after some thought. At least the vomit was nowhere near her…

"Where did you just come from?" She asked, gently touching along the Inquisitor's sleeve. Lady Trevelyan would definitely need a bath.

"The Western Approach. I had a lot of trouble with a dragon. Why?" She still couldn't move, but the older woman wasn't too bothered by that. Probably just fatigue.

"You might be poisoned!" Josephine scolded, standing from her side. "Of all things, crippled by the filthy saliva of a dragon…" She almost paced, before realizing the direness of this situation. "I-I will get you a healer!"

"I'll be here." The remark was bereft of snideness, rather amusement instead. Even if muffled by a vomit-stained Orlesian rug.

"Maker…" Josephine sighed, exiting to the grand hall of Skyhold. It was quiet, peace that was better suited to another time. Frustrated, she crossed out into the training grounds. "Ah, Seeker Pentaghast, where is the nearest healer?"

Freezing before the steel of her sword could put another slice in the dummy before her, Cassandra turned. "A healer?" Her harsh accent made Josephine second-guess herself, if only for a moment. "What is wrong- Is there an invasion?" She seemed almost  _excited_  for such an opportunity.

"No, no, it's the Inquisitor! She is paralyzed, o-or just too weak to move." The Antivan woman would have rambled on, but the seeker was already leading her away.

"Explain." Cassandra sharply spoke, scowling. Josephine fumbled, sighing. "She said you had encountered a dragon in the Western Approach? She may be poisoned-"

The seeker's sword pierced the grass, and Cassandra gave a wicked growl from her chest. "That damned Trevelyan. The dragon was on its last dregs of life; All limbs crippled. Its last defense was to bite. The Inquisitor shoved me out of the way, and got a bad bite to her side."

"The dragon  _bit_  her? Surely I only assumed she hadn't washed her hands after cleaning saliva off of her sword…" Lady Trevelyan survived a dragon's bite?

"It wasn't a pretty sight." Cassandra dryly responded, escorting Josephine back inside. "Madame de Fer? Have you a tonic for poison?" The dark woman turned towards her, having been about to enter the library.

"Poison? My dear Seeker, you look far too flush to be poisoned." Vivienne teased her, the warrior giving a disgruntled noise.

"It's for the Inquisitor. She was bitten by a dragon."

"Well… that's a first." Vivienne frowned, tucking a hand into one of the pouches on her belt. "This should do the trick, darling." She passed over a bottle, filled with an iridescent liquid.

Cassandra took it, holding it up to the light. It poured in from the stained glass behind the throne, and she grunted softly after her inspection. "This will do, thank you."

"I will need to throw that rug away." Josephine sighed, following fast after the seeker. "Not that I was particularly close to it…"

"The Inquisitor will pay you back." Cassandra dryly commented, the two happening upon the scene. Ayre was still facedown in the rug, gurgling and grumbling.

"This  _is_ a sight." The seeker almost seemed amused; Brows quirking as she surveyed her downed superior.

"...You brought Cassandra, Lady Montilyet?" Ayre sighed, barely able to bring her arms up to her sides. She braced them, attempting to push herself up before she collapsed. "Ugh…"

"Seeker Pentaghast has much more experience than I." Josephine knelt by her side again, touching along her sleeve. "I was unsure whether to bring a mage or Mother Giselle."

"Is that a tease?" Ayre managed a grin before she groaned again, Cassandra kneeling as well.

"You fool." Cassandra bit, showing the younger woman the bottle. "If anyone should be listless on a floor, it should be me. Less vomit and far more privacy, however."

"Next time a dragon comes to bite, I'll make sure to use you as a shield." Ayre quipped, the Seeker giving a rough sigh. The Inquisitor was far too stubborn, but she could always be swayed, or bent forcefully.

"You cannot even roll from your belly." Cassandra rolled her eyes, passing the tonic to Josephine. One hands braced on either side of Ayre, the Seeker gently turned her.

"If the bite was so bad, surely-"

"It was more like a very weak… graze." Ayre spoke again, one hand clutched tight to her lower left abdomen. Bright viridian eyes glanced from Josephine up to Cassandra, as if trying to convey something.

"I will not lie for you." The Seeker scoffed, looking to the Antivan woman with a soft huff. "It was a bite. A weak bite, as she does not lay here in two, but a bite nonetheless."

"Cassandra, you're terrible at collaborating a story." The Inquisitor made sure to speak, weakly pointing a finger up to her. She was draped on the Seeker's lap; Cassandra kneeling fully to at least make it more comfortable.

"If you wanted lies, you should have howled for Leliana. She may have heard you."

Josephine was so utterly baffled. Shouldn't the tonic be halfway down Ayre's throat by now? "My lady-"

"Oh. Right…" The woman chuckled, and Cassandra took the tonic back; pale and scarred cheeks flush with embarrassment. The cork was removed with the Seeker's teeth, and then the iridescent liquid was tipped past pale lips.

Would it really be as easy as that? "Should the wound be more thoroughly looked at?" Josephine spoke up, brows furrowing in concern. She waited for an answer, though of course the other two were otherwise occupied.

Once the bottle had been drained completely, Cassandra moved the mouth of it away before tossing it. It didn't shatter, but she was still given a faintly scolding look from the Antivan.

"...Habit." The Seeker's cheeks flushed deeply once more, and their gazes returned back to Ayre. The Inquisitor's hair fell into her eyes, a furtive breath futile to dislodge the crimson unruly locks.

Josephine moved them for her, cocking a thick brow. The Inquisitor was a rather odd woman, prone to nonsensical whims. She wondered if one of those whims had led them to take on that dragon…

"I feel much better." Ayre softly murmured, finding the strength to raise a hand to her brow. The taste of bile in her mouth, mixed with the tonic, made her grimace. "Lady Montilyet, I apologize deeply for the rug-"

"Oh, do shut up about the rug." Josephine softly snapped, following it with a soft chuckle. "It can be replaced, but you cannot." She went to place a hand on the noble, but thought differently.

"You can, however, be bathed…"

"Well, this is the lowest point of my week." Ayre grumbled softly, covering her face. Just when she had come to confess to Josephine, too.

Well, perhaps it had been a good thing she never crossed that threshold; Ayre was sure the ambassador wouldn't have been so quickly to forgiveness if it had been  _her_  that was vomited on.

* * *

**AN: Thank you for reading my first Dragon Age story! I've been a fan of the series since Origins, but I love Inquisition with a fierceness. Josephine is my favorite love interest as well, and this is only the beginning. Please, review!**


	2. Diplomatic Measures

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Diplomatic Measures**

* * *

 

 

The poison had escaped her system, but left the Inquisitor weak even so. Cassandra had even taken to ribbing her, a rarity but something very welcomed. Ayre always thought that the Seeker was far too serious sometimes…

 

And yet, that snarling face was quite deserved for what had happened mere seconds prior. Pink glitter was raining off of the Seeker’s dark hair, decorating her leather jerkin and the embroidered symbol on her chest. Did… someone actually paint over it?

 

Narrowing her eyes, the Inquisitor parted her lips to speak. Her throat clamped shut, oncoming laughter in the face of this dire situation truly not wise. Ayre’s mouth closed, lips pursed, before she attempted to speak.

 

“Did… Did Sera-?”

 

“Of course.” Cassandra bit, closing her eyes before shaking the glitter from her head. The colorful sparkles descended to the ground far more slowly than was appropriate, and Ayre bit her cheek to stop another bout of laughter.

 

She had survived the poison, but she was not about to test Cassandra’s temper. “I think you may need to bathe. T-to remove all of it, of course. I’ll have Sera put your armor back the way it was.”

 

The tiny hearts on Cassandra’s pauldron were also colored in; A sickeningly bright pink… Why had Sera done that? Did she have a death wish? Ayre’s lips twitched before she took a deep breath; fighting the urge to laugh.

 

One did not laugh at the Seeker’s misfortune.

 

“I believe you are right… Though, I think I shall have Harritt set it back right.” Cassandra’s expression darkened, her mouth pursing tight.

 

“Perhaps for the best… Though, I am rather glad you walked all this way to my quarters to show me this. It definitely has lightened my mood.” Ayre teased, crossing her arms.

 

The Seeker spared her a withering glance of irritation before sighing. “Morale has been rather… depleted since your recovery has began. I suppose we should thank Sera… though I will be the last to do so.”

 

The Inquisitor smiled softly, chuckling under her breath before sighing. “Well, I think I should get myself together. It wouldn’t help the recovery of morale if people knew I was in this state.”

 

“Please do. I cannot hold off on many more Orlesians come for a glance of you.” Cassandra gave a disgruntled noise through her nose, sneering.

 

Ayre let out a barking laugh before she could stop herself, covering her mouth with a fist and clearing her throat. “Ah, yes, well… I will  meet you in the hall, later.” Approaching the Seeker closely, the younger woman made sure to try and dust the rest of the gaudy glitter from coal locks.

 

“Do send someone to clean this mess up, however.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Lady Pentaghast said that the Inquisitor will be joining us, soon.” Josephine had yet to see Ayre since that incident with the rug. Thankfully, it had been replaced with an Antivan one; woven no doubt by the most prestigious of workers… The Inquisition’s fund had not been touched; Did Ayre pay out of pocket?

 

That was incredibly thoughtful, yet made her feel guilty… The Inquisitor had asked for no company during her bout of sickness and recovery, and suddenly Josephine felt the fool for having complied.

 

“You shouldn’t frown so hard, Josie. You’ll get crow’s feet- Oh, I think I see some!” Leliana chuckled softly when her hand was slapped away, adjusting her glove with a teasing smile.

 

“If you’re so upset about the Inquisitor’s return, surely she will apologize more-” “Do stop teasing me.” Josephine gave an irritated huff, dark cheeks coloring. “I have no frustration at this moment, except for you.”

 

The spymaster gave her a wink, rounding the war table and playing with a figure that represented the Trevelyan noble. “Perhap then it is a softened admiration? Even the Inquisitor is human.”

 

“It is… a guilt. Per her request, I did not visit, though I feel as if I should have.” Josephine sighed, toying with a stack of papers. She did not carry her usual clipboard; There was no need for immediate penning of any sort, not just yet.

 

“The Inquisitor is stubborn… and no doubt embarrassed for you to have seen her like that. On that rug, no less.”

 

“Do not bring the rug up, please.” The Antivan flushed darker, slipping a curled lock over her ear. “It has been replaced… by a much nicer one, no less.”

 

“I noticed.” Leliana grinned, quieting when the door opened.

 

“Just me.” Cullen poked his head in, looking back before he entered. “The Inquisitor is on my heels. Just… be natural.”

 

Josephine utterly detested that phrase. Natural? Just what was natural for her? Suddenly, her daily habits had escaped her mind. Grabbing the nearest thing available, the ambassador leaned into the war table as the door opened again.

 

Freezing in the doorway as all attention was placed upon her, Ayre almost had the urge to turn away. She did not run from dragons, why would she run from her advisors? Straightening her off-centered belt, she stepped further into the room.

 

“Josephine, are you reading Varric’s book?” Bright eyes that matched the mark on her palm, Ayre grinned mischievously.

 

“W-what? Oh…” She had picked up that trashy novel. Unceremoniously, she dropped the book; dust kicking up as it landed with a thud on the floor.

 

The three others simply stared at her, before Ayre began to laugh. She quickly stifled it, just managing an amused smirk as she shut the door behind her. “It must be as bad as he says.” She teased the ambassador, swiping it up.

 

“I’m sure Cassandra will want this back.”

 

Cheeks aflame, Josephine barely managed to nod before she cleared her throat. “Where shall your next expedition take you? We have quite a few reports ready…”

 

The redhead hummed, crimson locks in a loose hold down her back. While not in her usual armor, she had swiftly rejected the uniform they had presented her with. Not that Josephine blamed her; It was hideous.

 

Instead, she dressed rather oddly; Perhaps a Free Marches custom? The sleeveless coat was… distracting, to say the very least. Ayre presented herself as a rogue, yet Josephine had seen her train with a shield and sword… Could she be dual-trained? It dawned on the Antivan that she barely knew much about the Inquisitor.

 

She was almost overwhelmed with the desire to learn more.

 

Ayre gained a pensive look, folding her arms. As she had no sleeves, her sun-kissed skin and muscles were bare to all. Josephine was momentarily distracted; dark eyes watching.

 

“I actually haven’t put much thought into it…” The Inquisitor finally admitted, cheeks gaining a bit more color. While not as dark as the Antivan, it was quite obvious she spent more time in the sun than shadows.

 

Josephine cleared her throat, suddenly snapping out of her minor distraction. Goodness… where had that come from?

 

“Let me just read over the reports, and I will think of something.” Ayre frowned, gathering the papers to read. Leliana caught Josephine’s eye, giving her a faint smirk. She had no doubt caught the younger woman admiring…

 

Rolling her eyes as discreetly as possible, Josephine cleared her throat. “There is also the matter of Crestwood’s mayor; He has been found, and is awaiting the Inquisition’s judgement. Your judgement.”

 

“My judgement… I had thought I had made my mind up about him when I read his journal, and yet now…” Ayre sighed, setting the reports away. “Somehow, everything I can think of is too good for him.”

 

“I rather think he did the best that he could.” Cullen cocked a brow, a stern stare overtaking his features before he smoothed it out. This was his superior, after all.

 

Ayre turned to the man, a harsher than stern expression pulling her brows together. “‘Did the best that he could’?” She repeated, voice cold as ice. Somehow, even through his former Templar training, Cullen felt rather small.

 

“There were people who were not even sick. Children, babes… Innocent people. He murdered them all. Flooding Old Crestwood and subsequently killing so many… is unforgivable.” Ayre jabbed a finger to Cullen, the man taking a step back though the Inquisitor hadn’t moved towards him.

 

“My… remind me never to get on your bad side.” Leliana teased, lifting the tension from the room. “It sounds as if you’ve made a decision.” She wrung her hands together; the first two fingers of both hands interlocking.

 

“...Forgive me. Perhaps I have.” Ayre kept her expression stern, looking away from Cullen. She cleared her throat, doing her best to return to a more jovial state. Josephine studied her still, finding that perhaps the Inquisitor wasn’t as mischievous as she had once thought.

 

When was the last time the Inquisitor sought her out for conversation? Suddenly, it seemed ages. Perhaps later she would procure a nice bottle of wine and invite Ayre for a drink…

 

“Leliana, could you prepare a handful of scouts to secure a camp in the Fallow Mire? Something about the report seems… odd.” Ayre smiled faintly, gaining a nod from the spymaster.

 

“Well, Lady Montilyet? It seems we have a prisoner to judge. After you?” The Inquisitor’s smile seemed to widen when green eyes were set upon the Antivan.

 

Josephine cleared her throat, taking her clipboard. “Yes, of course.” She returned the smile, lighting the candle set into the wood. She heard Leliana give a small chuckle, refraining from scowling back to her.

 

Ayre waited for her just outside the door, leaving it slightly ajar should the other two vacate soon after. “Josephine, if we may speak freely for a moment?” Instead of exiting straight into the hall, the Inquisitor led towards Josephine’s desk.

 

“Ah, of course. Is something troubling you, Lady Trevelyan?” The ambassador took the time to briefly investigate her office area, in case of any traps. Pranks, Sera called them.

 

“Yes… I don’t think I trust my own judgement in bringing the mayor before me. I fear I may be too… vengeful.” Ayre crossed her arms again, the tail of her coat brushing against Josephine’s desk. The colors seemed to match; A fine light earthly tone… It suited her nicely.

 

“I understand. It can be hard to keep your emotions from interfering with such subjects. However, in the end, it is solely your decision… But I believe what you have in store for him is a just end.” Josephine secured the Inquisitor’s gaze, finding surprise behind viridian eyes.

 

“I would have thought you had a different opinion… Something softer, perhaps?” Ayre’s lips quirked into a smile, finding faint amusement.

 

“Soft appearances belie what lurks beneath, Inquisitor.” Josephine returned the smile once more, gesturing for the door. “Shall we?”

 

“We definitely shall…” Ayre’s gaze swept over the older woman before she remembered her place. Clearing her throat, she led the way, another flush prominent on high cheeks.

 

“Remind me after to have a talk when Sera… Preferably before Cassandra slaughters her.”

* * *

**AN: I hope you've enjoyed the second chapter!**

 


	3. Necessary Extermination

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Necessary Extermination**

* * *

 

 

The mayor of Crestwood’s execution had been well received by Ayre’s peers; Orlesians in those stuffy masks clapping to show their amusement. Bull and his Charger’s even roared when his head rolled off the stage and down towards the congregation below.

 

The Inquisitor had done the deed herself, steel behind her eyes and a forge beneath her skin. The axe she had used was one she found in Old Crestwood; It had only seemed fitting.

 

Yet… Ayre sighed, reclining in the grand Andrastian throne in which she had made the dark decision. Had she relied too much on her personal feelings? Cassandra had approved of her decision with a solemn nod when asked to retrieve him from his cell…

 

It was rather difficult to garner the Seeker’s approval without compromising some of her inner thoughts, and beliefs. That didn’t necessarily mean that the decision was right, however.

 

“Ayre?” Hearing her name, the redhead scrambled to look proper; Sitting straight and upright instead of lounging. She relaxed, however, at seeing the minor intrusion being only Josephine. The grand hall was empty for once, no doubt all visitors agog over the execution and gossiping elsewhere.

 

“Lady Montilyet-” Stopping herself, the Inquisitor peeked about once more. “Josephine.” She corrected, having caught use of her name instead of a title. She smiled, beckoning the ambassador to approach.

 

“Forgive any assumptions, but it seems as though you are troubled?” Josephine stood at her side, admiring the stained glass of the windows at the throne’s back. Even though the throne was gloriously generous, its owner was not shrouded in shadow yet instead basked in the light. Josephine had trouble understanding how exactly.

 

“I am.” Ayre admitted, leaning forward to rest her elbows atop her knees. The axe she had used was given to Cassandra, though whether the weapon suited the Seeker better or the Inquisitor simply couldn’t wield it except for beheadings was yet to be seen.

 

Josephine was utterly baffled. It was unclear to her just how the Inquisitor fought. She obviously did, however. That dragon did not defeat itself, disregarding whether it could with a glare from the Seeker…

 

She was, however, sure that the Inquisitor was not a mage. Though… She did not know for certain. This absolutely frustrated her.

 

Ah, but back to the matter at hand. Josephine smiled softly, nearing Ayre’s slumped figure. “Are you regretful over the decision?”

 

“Yes. No? It’s… complicated.” The redhead sighed, running a hand through her hair before remembering it was being held by a clasp. “Damn. Oh, forgive me.” She flushed, taking the clasp out.

 

It was silver, or rather, used to be silver. “I’ll ask Cassandra to polish this…”

 

Aha! So, the Inquisitor didn’t know how to polish? Then, she couldn’t use a sword-

 

“Well, I can do it myself.” Damn it.

 

Clearing her throat, Josephine wet her lips to speak. “You’re conflicted, yet you made the decision with such resolve?”

 

“I wanted him to die. Unfortunately, he wanted to die. You do not give a man such as that what he wants.” Ayre seemed stubborn, setting the clasp into the heart pocket of her coat. “Everyone seems happy with him dead at my hand, however.”

 

“You certainly know your way around an axe.” Josephine tried to hint, wanting to needle a preference out of the Inquisitor. How could she prepare a gift if she didn’t know?

 

“Mm. It’s just a simple motion.” The younger woman shrugged it off, obviously in deeper thought.

 

“But the strength required to render a man headless is not something you gain on your first try.” The ambassador colored a faint rose once she gained Ayre’s gaze.

 

“You sound as if you have some experience?” The Inquisitor smirked faintly, turning the tables as she straightened her posture. “Josephine, have you been hiding something from me?” She teased, leaning into the arm of the throne close to the Antivan woman, chin propped by her palm.

 

Goodness, that pose was far too attractive.

 

“Ah…” Josephine glanced around the great hall, relieved to still find it empty. Adjusting the silk of her collar, she let her gaze settle back into viridian.

 

“If you can believe it, I used to be a bard.” Leliana knew this, but very few others did. She felt comfortable in letting Ayre be one of those few.

 

“Really?” Surprise etched onto the Inquisitor’s face, but also intrigue. “I would not have automatically assumed, yet… I could see that.” Well, that was unexpected.

 

“You could?” Josephine’s brows furrowed in the slightest, and Ayre chuckled lowly.

 

“You can have quite the barbed tongue when you want, and yet the most delicate issues you handle with such ease. I have no doubt that you were a wonderful bard.” The Inquisitor smiled up to her, relaxing from her teasing pose. She stood, adjusting her belt before she neared the ambassador’s side.

 

“Perhaps you could tell me more?”

 

Ah… Oh! That was an invitation? This was exactly what she had wanted earlier… “But of course. I happen to have an aged bottle of Antivan wine that I planned to share with you.” Josephine smiled, keeping a professional standard though this felt anything but.

 

“I do like wine.” Ayre teased, the noble an almost expert in making sure that her flirtations were only depicted as surface deep. The Inquisitor was an enigma, even to Josephine. Perhaps she would ask around… Cassandra had not left Ayre’s side in any battle, though Leliana could have more information?

 

No. That would only lead to more incessant teasing.

 

“Ah, please… Let us convene.”

 

* * *

 

 

The wine was warmed, something Ayre had not yet sampled. It was a heady mix of spice and sweet, reminding her of cozier times. The perfume and scent of a woman, the heaviness of sex and tension in the air.

 

It was quite the distraction.

 

A day such as this in Skyhold was far too hot for a roaring fire, yet the warmth of the wine was quite welcome. They had decided upon Ayre’s quarters; As it was Josephine who brought the wine, the Inquisitor should provide the atmosphere. Not to mention she had rarely visited her own quarters since they claimed the fortress…

 

The doors to the balcony were open, letting in a refreshing breeze when the wind kindly blew their way. Josephine had told her much about her time as a bard, even about the young man she had killed.

 

“It was such a waste, Inquisitor. He was so young-” Ayre interrupted the ambassador, a hand innocently perched upon her thigh. It was certainly enough to quiet the elder woman.

 

“So were you, Josephine. You cannot blame yourself for acting in your defense.” The Inquisitor smiled, garnering one out of the Antivan.

 

“You are quite right… I left that life shortly thereafter, and dedicated my free time to trying to pull my family-” Josephine faltered, though the Inquisitor’s hand on her thigh squeezed for her to continue.

 

“To pull my family out of debt.”

 

“The Montilyet’s are in debt?” Ayre repeated, surprised to that. How many knew, she wondered? She retracted her hand, though smiled as she simply moved to take her wine glass up again.

 

“Unfortunately, yes. Many years ago, the Montilyet family was banned from trading in Orlais, and we have never recovered.” Josephine sighed, not having meant to trouble the Inquisitor with her familial troubles.

 

“That is an awful blow.” Ayre winced, sitting up to better sip her wine. “There is no overturning the decision? Surely, even you could make things right; You’ve got almost all of Thedas believing I’m the Herald of Andraste.” She ribbed softly, gaining a smile from the ambassador.

 

“With the amazing things you succeed with every day, it isn’t hard to believe.” Josephine softly admitted, another dusting of color across her cheeks.

 

Ayre smiled almost too wide at first, reeling it in as her own face flushed. “I wouldn’t be able to do these things without the amazing people supporting me.”

 

Lifting her gaze, Josephine gained a small smirk. “Speaking of… What weapons do you exactly use, Inquisitor? I am most curious to learn.”

 

The redhead only smirked wider, setting away her glass. “Is it truly that much of a mystery?” She teased, knowingly infuriating.

 

“It is! You seem to have the strength of a warrior, and I only have ever seen you train with a shield and sword, yet the way you dress…? It seems you are just content with confusing all who come across you.” Josephine seemed baffled by the idea, and Ayre chuckled lowly, enjoying the sight.

 

“Perhaps I am.” Oh, the Antivan woman would be having none of that.

 

“I am at least almost certain that you are not a mage.” If she needled one possibility out, she could nail a class down. Hopefully.

 

“My dear Josephine wants to hold me to a class?” Ayre didn’t confirm nor deny, and only fueled the ambassador’s curiosity.

 

“This is magic, though. So… I could be.” The Inquisitor lifted her left hand, the Mark glowing faintly in prepared use. It had spread just towards the inside of her wrist, and thankfully didn’t seem to be moving anytime soon.

 

“You gave the axe to Cassandra. Why not keep it?” Josephine quirked a brow, surveying the Mark briefly. She grasped Ayre’s wrist, taking it in her hands to closely examine the magic pulsing within.

 

“She needed a new weapon. It suited her better.” The Inquisitor shrugged, letting the older woman toy with her hand. It was fairly cute, after all. “I still have the sword that was presented to me, after all.”

 

Ah, yes… The sword they had given Ayre once she had been chosen as the Inquisitor. She had almost forgotten. It was a beautiful weapon, and yet…

 

“I have never seen you bring it into battle.” Josephine accused, gaze rising from the Mark to matching eyes. The younger’s hand stayed in her grasp, not once wavering.

 

“Oh, I bring it into battle… I take it with me on every outing, every expedition.” Ayre admitted, smiling a bit shyly. “It’s an incredible honor to have such a weapon.”

 

“Do you use it?” She was going to find an answer, Maker give her strength.

 

“It just kills you that you do not know, doesn’t it?” Ayre struggled not to laugh so heartily, clearing her throat after a few chuckles. “I find that rather endearing.”

 

“No matter how infuriating you can be, I find you the same.” Josephine smiled, deciding to leave the subject be; For now.

 

“Well, this sounds like the beginning of something.” Ayre suddenly seemed nervous, but eager as well. Josephine flushed, glancing out towards the balcony. Goodness, the sun was going down!

 

“We have been conversing for hours…” She was surprised, flushing darkly as she let go of Ayre’s hand to rise. “Forgive me for consuming so much of your time-”

 

“No apologies. I can think of no better way to spend my afternoon.” The Inquisitor rose as well, smiling in a different way now. It was… almost in adoration? She adjusted the off-centered belt; And even it held no hints to her class.

 

It would just be a mystery, unless Josephine dug deeper. “You flatter me far too much.” The Antivan smiled back with a hint of something more, bowing her head. Ayre escorted her to the door, waiting until Josephine had left to release a breath of utter nervousness.

 

“...Oh! I have to speak to Sera.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was best to wait until the beginning hours of evening; Ayre knew she could find Sera in the tavern then. Maryden was entertaining most of her companions with a new song, one she hadn’t heard before.

 

_“Sera was never the wealthiest girl; Some say she lives in a tavern! But she was so sharp and quick with her bow; Arrows strike like a dragon!”_

 

The bard had wrote a song about Sera? The elf quite enjoyed it, apparently; Sera herself rooting on Maryden. Ayre almost pouted; Where was her song?

 

Shaking that thought away, the Inquisitor waited until the bard had wrapped that song up to approach.

 

“Oh! Fancy seein’ you here, allergic to fun.” Sera smiled, excited to have a bit more company than at present. Bull and Krem were to the side, arguing loudly about which drinking song went well with splitting heads open.

 

Nothing to do with Andraste, Ayre assumed.

 

“I come here, sometimes.” The Inquisitor quirked a grin, joining the table. The elf gave her trilling laugh, glancing sideways towards the redhead.

 

“Your hair is out, you know? All crazy instead of refined, like a proper lady.” Sera screwed her nose up at the end, turning her voice nasally in order to impersonate an Orlesian.

 

Ayre snorted, covering her mouth and giving a face. “Don’t do that.” She tried to be stern, but ended up just shrugging with a grin.

 

Sera was different, but she was a good person. “This is about your pranks-”

 

“Oh, come off it! Seeking Seeker sought solace suffering sins!” Sera hissed. The Inquisitor blinked, parting her lips to speak before remaining confused.

 

“What the hell did you just say?” She eventually blurted, causing the elf to laugh again.

 

“Cassandra went crying to you.” She dumbed it down for the Inquisitor, smirking cockily. “I followed the trail of glitter back to your room!”

 

“Did you clean it up, at least?” Ayre shook her head, chuckling.

 

“Ew, no. That shite’s a pissing pain in the arse to get out of rugs… and wood. Grass too. Hair…”

 

“But someone did clean it up, it’s not there anymore.” Ayre pointed out, finding herself off-track. “Ah, damn it. Yes, Cassandra did come to me. But, not for the reason you may think.”

 

“...What?” Sera tossed her a dirty look, as if she didn’t quite believe her.

 

“Cassandra thinks that your pranks helped lighten the morale when I was ill. I wanted to thank you.” Ayre smiled, one of the Chargers bringing them both a tankard of ale.

 

“Courtesy of the Iron Bull!” The young man grinned, scampering off to jump his boss. Krem and the others must have such comradery to band together to try and topple Bull…

 

Shaking her head, Ayre turned back to the conversation after partaking of the ale. Definitely not as good as the wine she had shared with Josephine…

 

“I… what?” Sera still seemed confused, and seemed to be getting flighty.

 

The noble glanced around before leaning closer. “I said, thanks, _bitch_.”

 

Eyes lighting up, Sera trilled her laughter louder again. “You didn’t have to string posies around your words, Herald.” She teased back, grinning.

 

“So, I’m not in trouble, yeah?”

 

“Oh, I didn’t say that.”

* * *

 

**AN: I hope you enjoyed this new chapter! I seem to be making daily uploads now lol! Please comment!**

 

 


	4. Mire Blades

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Mire Blades**

* * *

 

Supplies were starting to become limited in Skyhold; the Bull's Chargers were threatening to drink the fortress dry. The Inquisitor barely partook in drinking; aside from their shared parties twice a week… Not to mention wine with Josephine. However, they would need more supplies other than ale or mead. Ayre fumbled with a report of things that the citizens, and soldiers, of Skyhold needed.

"Five crates of blankets… It is getting cold." Humming to herself, the Inquisitor put her seal onto the scroll and rolled it up. Their expedition into the Fallow Mire would be taken within the hour, and hopefully Leliana had enough scouts to spare for the supply run to one of their forts.

Speaking of the spymaster- "Andraste's sheets!" Ayre jumped, not having noticed Leliana enter her quarters.

The redhead gave her an odd look, though one filled with amusement. "My, I have never heard that sort of swear before. Maker's bed is next, yes?" She teased, slotting her gloved fingers together.

"Perhaps I should commission Harritt to make a bell for you." Ayre held onto her chest before clearing her throat, fixing her composure. "Then again, how could I make you wear it?"

"You couldn't." Leliana chuckled lowly, holding a hand out for the report. "Sealed?"

"With the Inquisitor's love." Ayre snickered, passing it over. "Have you enough scouts to spare for the supply run and the expedition?" She asked, cocking her head. Leliana had been warming up considerably to her since she had advised the spymaster to spare that agent back in Haven…

Had that decision helped Leliana more than either of them could say?

"Of course I do. My agents are numbered in the thousands…" Leliana chuckled softly, leaning against the Inquisitor's desk. "Before we prepare, however, I need an answer."

"Then I need a question?" Ayre grinned, though felt that this conversation would soon turn serious.

"You feel guilt over your decision about the mayor, do you not?" Leliana crossed her arms, an exploratory glance given the younger woman's way.

Maker be damned.

The Inquisitor sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her hair was still loose, and as such, crimson fell long over her shoulders. Brushing bangs from her brow, Ayre stared to the floor.

"I feel guilty, because he  _wanted_ to die. I gave a monster exactly what he wanted. I wanted to kill him, he wanted to be killed. I feel as if I played into a trap." She confessed, dropping her hand. Did that make sense?

"Honestly, I should have conscripted him into the wardens. The ritual may have killed him, or forced him into the deep roads… The latter obviously a much favorable option." Ayre murmured, toeing the floor with her boot.

"You feel as though you've granted him mercy?" Leliana was surprised at the revelation, humming lowly. Perhaps their Inquisitor wasn't as light-hearted as she seemed?

"...Yes." That was it exactly. Ayre smiled softly, raising her gaze to match Leliana. "Does that speak cruel of me for wanting to torture an already tortured soul?" She asked, wringing her hands together. They were bare of gloves for the moment, the left being cradled almost.

"Are you in pain?" Delicate blue eyes roamed over the green mark, watching it spark as if enjoying the attention. Ayre gazed down to it, viridian eyes glowing the same until the Mark calmed.

"Not as much, actually. Once the Breach stopped growing, most of the pain fled." The Inquisitor sighed, letting her wrist go either way. She appreciated the concern, smiling to the spymaster. Ever since asking her fellow redhead to spare that troublesome agent, Leliana had seemed… brighter.

Perhaps Ayre had turned the tide of darker things within Leliana than she had previously thought? She hoped so; It wouldn't do good to have her spymaster slip into darkness for too long.

"About the mayor… I think what you did was the better option." Leliana offered, nearing her side. She grasped the Inquisitor's arm, squeezing to encourage. "Beheading him in front of a congregation will gossip of the seriousness of our order, and our leader."

"I do so love to be taken seriously." Ayre smiled, chuckling softly. "You've soothed my worries, Leliana… thank you." She relaxed, shoulders falling back into a prideful stance.

"Splendid… I shall send this report off, and meet you at the stables." Leliana spared a smile, retreating from the Inquisitor's quarters.

Ayre took a breath, feeling the rest of her tension dissipate. Happy that her concerns hadn't been pampered too nor ignored, she hummed to herself. Wait, what had she been doing…? Utterly confused, she stared to the floor.

Oh, well, she had been going to drop the report off, but Leliana had taken it…?

All that was left was to prepare, it seemed. Chuckling at herself, the Inquisitor set off from her quarters. The Fallow Mire… Sounded pleasant enough.

* * *

 

"I was very wrong." Ayre blurted out, dodging the slow sword of an undead corpse. The stench of this place was one thing, but the maggots acting as eyes for these foes? That was another story altogether.

Cassandra gave a soft chuckle to her words, shield easily rending one headless. "We should be reaching the camp soon. No doubt these corpses will be kept at bay, though it would be prudent if you  _helped_."

"Well, not my fault that someone found my sword far too shiny to have in my bag." Ayre dodged another swipe, thankful for her gloves as she snapped a corpse's neck. "Cole has no doubt hidden it." She grumbled, brushing her hands off. She picked up a discarded axe, swinging it deftly in one hand from her wrist.

"Oh, her shiny Heraldness is finally joining in? Almost thought you were getting too big for your breeches!" Sera laughed, an arrow singing just past Ayre's ear to slug a corpse down.

"The moment I do, you can sell them to the highest bidder." The Inquisitor promised, heaving the axe sideways; beheading two of the undead archers as the weapon soared from her hand. The fog was starting to thin, as if reacting to their downed foes.

"Do try and keep a hand on your weapon, hm?" Dorian's slightly strained voice made her laugh, the mage easily barricading her from others with a wall of ice. Ayre smirked, keeping a flighty stance before the last enemy fell.

"Well, that was fun. Remind me to scold Cole when we get back." Ayre sighed, looking to her gloves. "And at camp, to swap out my gloves." She eagerly peeled them off, tossing the soiled things onto the soggy marsh.

Sera snickered her way, tossing a wink when Ayre glance to her. "Not the first time you've had soggy gloves, I bet." She lewdly threaded one arm into a circle she had made with her hand, causing Cassandra to sputter.

"I do not wish to hear that story again." The Seeker recoiled, cheeks turning bright in the low light of the mire. Ayre covered half of her face, bursting into laughter as she remembered that moment in the tavern.

Dorian seemed thoroughly amused, and intrigued. "I don't think I was there for that." The Tevinter noble smirked, nudging Sera. "You'll have to repeat yourself once we hit camp."

"Oh, you bet your mustache wax!" The elf laughed, skipping up ahead of their path. The mage was on her heels, staff picked up to keep up pace.

Ayre reeled herself in, grinning to Cassandra as the two began to catch up. "Well, at least we'll never be without a smile." The Inquisitor quipped, patting her shoulder.

"Or disgust." Curling her top lip, the Seeker shuddered at the image in her head. This only fueled Ayre's amusement, knowing the older woman was only affected by the vulgarity of the story, but not the nature.

"Oh, dear Seeker… I think you may be my best friend." Ayre wrapped an arm around Cassandra, squeezing the warrior against her side before letting go. "Camp's ahead! Finally…" She sighed, surging forward and past the other two.

Hurdling a requisition table, the Inquisitor came to a stop in front of one of her favorite agents. "Harding, you have got to be the loveliest sight in all of this mire." She grinned down to the dwarf, crossing her arms.

Lace rolled her eyes, smiling from the flirtation either way. "You are certainly the brightest." She teased, the mark on Ayre's hand glowing faintly now that her gloves were gone.

Cassandra eyed the interaction, seeming put off by the intimacy the two seemed to have. Wasn't the Inquisitor trying to charm lady Montilyet?

"Ah, yes… I need a pair of gloves, and a sword. Seems a spooky spirit buried mine back at Skyhold." Ayre grumbled, lowering her arms.

"I'm sure we've got enough to spare, go take a look." Nodding to the tents, Harding watched her go. The rain was starting up again, Ayre ducking into the tent she shared with Cassandra.

"Ugh, it's so cold and miserable out here." The Inquisitor huffed, tugging on the spare set of gloves she had found. She would hold off on the sword until they were to set out again, but it was late; Tonight would be just for rest it seemed.

The small fire within the tent was tended by Cassandra, the seeker's brows pulled together into a fine furrow. Noticing, Ayre frowned and rolled her tied bedroll over, sitting atop it. "Is something on your mind?"

"You." The elder woman blurted out, suddenly becoming flustered. "Not like that." She sternly amended, gaining just a quirky grin from the Inquisitor, and a nod.

Cassandra waited for a moment before continuing, eyes returned to the fire. "You are trying to court Ambassador Montilyet, yes?" She asked, gaining another nod. Poking at the fire with a stick, the elder bit her lower lip as she tried to think of how to continue.

"You're… flirting. With the scout."

"Oh." Ayre seemed surprised, leaning in. When there was no more given, her own brows furrowed. "I'm sorry, what about it?"

"You should  _not_ flirt with others if you wish to be serious!" Cassandra scolded, scowling once her words were simply laughed at. "I am not joking."

Laughter dying immediately, Ayre quirked a brow. "Cassandra… It isn't true flirtation, with scout Harding. We've a banter between us, as we only meet in awful places like this." The Inquisitor gestured out to the mire, chuckling. "We hold no affection for each other, I can promise you that."

"Then… You and Sera?" "The same; Teases and jokes."

Cassandra scowled still, focused on the small fire. "How… how can you flirt and it mean nothing?" She quietly asked, glancing to Ayre.

"Casually, of course." The Inquisitor smiled, leaning in. "Doesn't mean nothing, exactly, but it's more… friendly than anything. Here- I'll flirt with you!"

"I would rather you not." Cassandra rejected, a flush coming to her cheeks.

"No, no, this could be good." Ayre grinned, folding her arms as she admired the older woman. Hm… how could she do this…

Cassandra seemed uncomfortable under the scrutiny, at least thankful the other two weren't present. She eventually relaxed, cocking a fine brow at the Inquisitor.

Smiling to Cassandra, it seemed Ayre finally found her words. "No matter if you are dressed in steel, or lace, you are still a warrior; Not to mention a beautiful woman."

To the untrained eye, the seeker may have appeared unaffected by such words at first. However, having always been at Ayre's side since the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the Inquisitor knew her better. A quirk of her lips, the faintest of flushes… Cassandra was flattered, and rather enjoyed that sort of attention, surprising even herself.

"I… I liked that." She admitted, chuckling her nervousness away. Ayre grinned, leaning forward to nudge her softly. "I meant that." The redhead made sure she knew, the two of them sharing a grin.

"Don't tell Sera." Cassandra implored, the younger woman chuckling.

"I wouldn't open that bottle of bees." Ayre smirked, warming her hands on the fire. The mark could be seen glowing here and there, even through the glove adorned. Cassandra watched it for a while, tilting her head.

"It doesn't hurt, if that's what you're wondering. Not as much, anyway." Ayre spoke, having caught the stare. Cassandra lifted her eyes to meet her gaze, flushing.

"I did not mean to offend-" "I don't think you could offend me, Cassandra." The Inquisitor cut her off, grinning more. "Leliana brought it up before." She assured, shrugging. The mark had seemed to stop spreading, at least.

"Ah." The seeker nodded, the both of them staring into the fire for a moment more.

"Well, I doubt this rain will let up." Ayre spoke, standing to stretch. "We should rest for tonight, try to find those soldiers with the morning." She murmured, rolling out the bedroll.

"I agree." Cassandra stood as well, starting to slip off her more heavy armor. Chainmail and pauldrons set aside, she slipped into her own bedroll to rest.

Ayre stared at the tent, not having had such armor woes. She tried not to think of the worst scenarios those soldiers could have fallen into. Could they be part of the undead hordes they had been fighting through? The thought was unbecoming.

Eventually the troubled Inquisitor drifted off to sleep, disturbed only by the howling of the wind and Dorian's laughter as Sera no doubt recounted her story.

* * *

 

It was hard to tell whether it was truly morning in this miserable bog; the rain having only given way to more fog and murkiness of the air. The sun was a long forgotten treasure, Ayre only rising when Cassandra shook her gently.

"Ah- what…?" Sitting up, she rubbed at her face. "Ugh… I'm up." She murmured, free crimson locks a wild mess. She heard Cassandra snort, though whether at her demeanor or her appearance was to be seen.

"I've got your clasp." The seeker passed it over, and Ayre smoothed back her hair to be held within the polished silver.

"Thank you…" The Inquisitor yawned, rising and dusting herself off. The seeker offered her a bowl, warm porridge looking like the most delectable meal she'd ever seen.

Downing it almost immediately, Ayre waved at her tongue from the heat. "Worth it…" She mumbled, gathering Cassandra's bowl to put away as well.

"Let me guess… Still raining?" The redhead seemed more awake now, a teasing look seeping onto her expression. Cassandra quirked a brow, pointing up to the ceiling of the tent. Drops of rain smashed against the heavy fabric, thankfully not able to penetrate.

"Right." Ayre chuckled, adjusting her armor to better suit the rain. Rust scarf pulled to cover her throat, lest this rain give her a cold, her hood was pulled up to cover crimson locks. "Do you find my style of dress confusing?" The Inquisitor asked, dusting off a flamboyant wide-brimmed hat.

"You dress like a man." Cassandra blurted out, covering her mouth. "I-I did not mean to offend-"

"What did I say last night?" The younger woman chuckled, shaking her head. "Josephine also mentioned I dress odd… It's comfortable to me, and no doubt confuses my enemies when they see an axe or sword in my hand."

"I wouldn't doubt it." Cassandra's lips twitched into a small smile, fully prepared for the day. Exiting their tent, the two glowered in the rain.

With her gloved hands on a fresh sword, Ayre twirled it with a flick of the wrist. "Let's go find our men.

* * *

 

"The Weeping Spires… ugh, I hate that word." Ayre grimaced after the party dealt with another round of corpses.

"Weeping?" Cassandra asked, quirking a brow.

" _The_." Ayre smirked, the two staring before the elder woman gave a disgruntled scoff. Chuckling, the redhead nudged her and took point again.

"More dead things ahead." Sera stuck her tongue out, pointing. There were thick chains latching stone to stone until a fortress was revealed through the fog.

"Hm… I think I'll take that." Ayre murmured softly, the vision of the castle being blocked by the corpses.

"They're endless… we should head to the castle!" Dorian warned, but the Inquisitor chose to ignore him. Surely there couldn't be so many?

Ayre held the hilt of her sword tight with both hands, dismembering and beheading corpses left from right. She heard her team fighting, but soon realized that Dorian had been right. Turning, she shouted over the roaring wind.

"Everyone, get to the castle! Just push through- Argh, Maker's balls!" One of the corpses had cut the belly of her forearm with a sword, the Inquisitor kicking it down.

"I'm fine, move!" She growled, acting as a shield for Sera as Cassandra helped Dorian. Once near the gates, the mage cast a wall of ice to cut their dead pursuers down.

Ayre chanced a glance back, catching the spiked gate falling and crushing the few corpses that had followed. "...Heh." She chuckled lowly, holding tight to her arm.

"Inquisitor?" Cassandra made a move to see it, but a hoarse voice caught their attention.

" **Off with her head!"**

"Well, this will need to wait." The wound stung, but it wasn't going to kill her. Ayre charged ahead with a roar to match the qunari trying to stop them. If they wanted to challenge her, they would need to be prepared when she answered the call.

Side-stepping a shield bashing her way, the Inquisitor positioned herself to the shield's inner workings and the qunari's front; Sword burying itself into his belly. The weapon became stuck, a stomp of her foot and a great heave doing the trick to dislodge the blade, and disembowel her attacker.

"Ew! Can't stand the bloody bits!" She heard Sera call out, an arrow singing to take out one on the higher rafts. The gate before them was shut… but a trip up the steps was enough to find the lever to open it.

Ayre's arm stung, blood oozing down and seeping into her glove. She could keep fighting, for now at least… "The gate's open…" She murmured, favoring her left arm close to her body.

"You should fall back." Cassandra tried to reason, only to be laughed off.

"Leave you here to take the glory? Not while I stand." Ayre smirked, though wished she had sleeves. They could sop enough of the blood up to keep her hand dry, at least.

"Press on." She ordered, letting Cassandra take point through the gate.

"Three… straight ahead." The seeker murmured, Sera shuffling closer behind Cassandra.

"Pfft… I can take care of them." The elf smirked, easing something from her belt. "Hope they taste like honey. Bees on!" She heaved a glass bottle of the agitated bees, smashing it right in the center of the three warriors.

"What the-?!" The screams of the men as they tried to outrun the stinging swarm made Ayre grin. Cassandra sent a glance her way, matching her expression with a smirk.

With the bees and foes dying down, Ayre made her way up the steps. "What were they cooking?" She scrunched her nose, taking a sniff of the pot. It boiled over the fire, Maker knows what ingredients it held.

"Well, don't drink it… Unless you'd like some dead bee soup." Sera trilled, nudging her side.

"Ew, no thanks." After a moment's thought, Ayre kicked the pot from the fire and let it spill. "Just in case." She explained, sheepish as the other three threw looks.

" **Herald of Andraste, face me!"**  A voice boomed, startling all but Cassandra.

"I think we need higher constitution…" Ayre quipped, the four of them stepping into the great hall.

"That is one big-" " **I am the Hand of Korth himself!"** The Qunari boomed, swinging his hammer to slam into the ground. It rattled the party, but the avvar bowmen kept their ground.

Absolutely baffled, Ayre shook her head and focused. "Sera, take out the archers; Dorian, focus on rattling that brute back. Cassandra, on me." The Inquisitor ordered, gaining nods.

One of his defender heaved his shield to protect himself, the sword of the seeker rattling him as it struck metal. Ayre struck the other side, able to slice at the man's elbow. Shield dropped, Cassandra's sword was shoved through his throat. Blood spurted onto Ayre, the noble sneering at the scene.

"Ugh… Maybe just the gut, next time-" Her quip was short lived, the side of the qunari's hammer striking her ribs. Caught off guard, the Inquisitor's back hit the rank stone wall; Pinpricks of pain splintering open and giving way to agony aplenty.

"Argh… Dorian!" She rasped, buckled on the floor. The mage was in a pickle of his own; None of his spells effective against the brute.

Sera was faring well, at least; Her foes having arrows for eyes instead. Cassandra was doing her best to keep the qunari distracted, but the brute was shaking off blows as if the seeker was but a fly.

"What the hell is with him?" Ayre held tight to her ribs, standing with a bit of trouble. Her sword in her free hand, she clutched the hilt tight. There was something strange about him…

"Does anyone have anything magic-infused?" She called out, scrambling once his attention as set onto her. She was quick, but moving was painful; Bruised ribs at the very least.

"Ew, not me!" Sera screwed her face up to the question, and Cassandra only blocked the hammer from concussing Ayre. Dorian gave her a look, his spells not having much effect.

"Fall back!" Ayre ordered, but knew it to be fruitless. The gates had slammed behind them already…

Cassandra steeled herself, shield braced hard. If they were to die here, she was damn well going to make this bastard work for it.

There had to be something… Glancing up, Ayre noticed the chandelier; hope springing forth in her chest. If they could somehow- "Cassandra!"

The seeker was rattled, but fine; Shield utterly demolished by the Avvar's hammer. She tossed it to the ground, both hands on her sword as she avoided the blows and glanced her own back.

"Lure him to the center of the room, but be careful!" Ayre ordered Sera and Dorian to do their best, hurtling past the qunari for the mechanism keeping the chandelier above them.

"Why couldn't it be a fucking rope?!" Ayre growled, trying to use her sword to break the chain. It was cutting through, but far too slow. "Maker's fucking, fuck!" She roared, slamming the blade against the chains and pulling tight.

"Puny human…" The qunari chuckled lowly, advancing on her. With another heave, the chain broke and the chandelier came crashing down.

"Ah!" Ayre flew up without weight to keep the chains suspended, but heard the chandelier crush the Avvar leader. The chains finally stopped, leaving her sore and hanging from the ceiling of the fort. Ribs and arm aching in protest, she glanced down below.

The Avvar was downed, unmoving and hopefully dead. Cassandra rested her blade after a moment, rubbing the shoulder that had braced her shield.

"...A little help?" The Inquisitor called, her party looking for her before their eyes glanced upwards.

Sera started to laugh uncontrollably, pointing up to her. "Andraste's Herald, more like hanging candy!"

"How do we get her down?" Dorian seemed utterly baffled, nearing Cassandra's side. The seeker kept quiet, unsure.

"Well, I could fall, but my ribs are already hurt enough. Wouldn't want to risk a break." Ayre winced, clamping tight to the chain that held her with both hands. Blood from her arm had more than soaked her glove and she was unable to sustain a grip with it.

"Whatever you decide, make it very quick." She warned, biting off the soaked glove and tossing it down. Her hand was slick too, and she groaned as the chain shook in her grasp.

There was rubble everywhere; Stone and wood gathered in piles around them. Neither would be very comfortable to land on…

"Inquisitor… You are far too reckless." Cassandra scolded, staring up to her.

"You're welcome, Lady Pentaghast." Ayre sarcastically replied, clinging desperately to the chain.

"Erm, any time slowing spells you got there- Oh, right, shite idea." Sera recoiled from the glare Dorian gave, the mage patting his robes.

"I truly cannot think of any way to get you down." He finally spoke, the three of them still staring up at her helplessly.

"...That's alright…" Ayre spoke, letting out a slow breath. "Cassandra, take that bastard's key and go free the hostages; Sera, you and Dorian go with her."

"But what about-?" "I'll get myself down, but you three have to leave." The Inquisitor growled, ordering them again. "Move! Come back only once you've freed those men!"

Sifting through blood to find the key, Cassandra looked back up to her. "If that is an order…"

"It is. Go!" Ayre roared again, unsure of how much longer she could hold on. The seeker gave a solemn nod, corralling the other two out of the main hall.

Once the sound of their footsteps faded, Ayre took another deep breath and closed her eyes. Letting go of the chain, she fell.

* * *

 

" _-was incredibly stupid! She could have been killed! How could you have let her_ _ **do**_ _this, Cassandra?"_ A watery voice was the next thing she heard, accompanied by a more soulful accent than she'd heard from the seeker since having met her.

" _It was an order, Lady Montilyet. The Inquisitor only spared us from watching such a wretched sight."_ Cassandra sighed, her voice sounding closer. Was she kneeling by her side?

It wasn't stone she lay on, nor a pool of her own blood but a cot- No, a bed? Warmth surrounded her, and she doubted Josephine would have come all the way to the mire just with news of her injury.

" _...Just so stupid…"_ Ayre heard Josephine speak again, a warm hand across her brow.

"Well, if you keep calling me names, I may not wake up." The redhead spoke, popping open a veridian eye.

"I-Inquisitor!" Josephine sprang away, startled. Cassandra's brows perked, the seeker keeping Ayre down with a hand to her collarbone.

"What's the damage?" Everything ached, but far less than how it should. She winced, a hand over her stomach.

"You almost broke your leg, three shattered ribs, and your arm was split open." Cassandra spared the more gory details, especially in front of Josephine.

"Where are we?" "We've just reached Skyhold hours ago. You've been asleep for four days."

"Four days?" Ayre cocked a brow, lifting her arm. The wound had been sealed, but there was a scar.

"The healers we had with us worked day and night on you." Cassandra mentioned, looking a bit ragged herself.

Staring at the seeker, Ayre struggled to sit up. "Did you tell them to look at your shoulder?!" She accused, brows furrowing tight.

Giving the redhead a look as if she were crazy, Cassandra eased her back down. "Of course not-"

"I am not more important than you, Cassandra. You need to realize that, please." Ayre pressed, grasping the elder woman's wrist to hold. The seeker's brows furrowed, but she listened; Josephine suddenly feeling as if she were intruding.

"The second I am secured, whatever injury you have needs to be treated. I don't care if it's a splinter; If I am safe, you need to be seen." Ayre scolded, relaxing greatly once Cassandra nodded.

"Who else is going to keep them safe, and save the world?" The Inquisitor teased, laying back fully. Her body ached, but she was alive; They all were.

Josephine relaxed, laying her hand across Ayre's brow again. "Please be more careful, next time." She spoke, tenderly brushing crimson locks from sun-kissed skin.

"Oh, I don't know… If it leads to this, maybe I won't." The Inquisitor flirted, Cassandra coloring and making her leave quickly.

Josephine chuckled warmly, making sure they were truly alone before smiling down to the Inquisitor. "You are really too much… Please, get some rest." The ambassador sat at her bedside, stroking through the younger's hair.

"Mm… Alright." Ayre closed her eyes, sighing as she relaxed. Josephine's perfume was the last thing to cross her mind before she fell to slumber once more.

* * *

 

**AN: Action! Romance! Gore! If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment!**


	5. Heartfelt Boon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my ignorance of the Fallow Mire Avvar, I truly thought they were Qunari as I haven't played that section of the game in quite some time, lol! At any rate, please enjoy this chapter!

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Heartfelt Boon**

* * *

 

" _Hmph… Have I used the word 'fiery' too many times in this chapter?"_ Waking up to fervent whispering, Ayre's brows furrowed together. "Varric?" Weakly shoving the blanket from atop her, she turned onto her side to catch the dwarf sitting with his back against the bed-frame.

"Evening, Inquisitor!" He chuckled, lowering a batch of papers from her sight. He glanced over his shoulder to her, a grin etching his features. "Heard you were left hanging."

"Very funny… What are you doing in here?" After surveying the room, Ayre found the rogue to be its only other occupant.

"I've decided to write a book about you." Varric freely admitted, raising his quill to parchment once more. "What do you like better; Fiery or scorched?"

"I'd really have to see the context, but scorched." Amused, the younger woman held a hand to her stomach. Varric eyed her again, gesturing with his head to her nightstand.

A brilliantly pink bottle was quickly snatched, half of it downed before Ayre set it back. "That's so much better…" She murmured, soreness in her ribs dying down. "What day is it?" She asked, lying back on her side.

"Don't worry, it's hasn't been another four." Varric teased, chuckling softly. "You woke up a few hours ago, to Ruffles and our Lady Seeker, you remember that?" At her nod, he continued. "Well, you've been snoozing for, oh… five hours since then?"

"Ah… all of you taking rounds?"

"You kidding me? I had to force the seeker out of here." Varric smirked, turning a bit to show Ayre the papers. "Here. The only one to get a sneak peek should be its subject."

"Much obliged… Let's see what you've got here." Sitting up and bracing herself against a nest of pillows, Ayre focused on the paper. Varric writing about her? No doubt it would be good; Lighthearted, maybe even her romance with Josephine hinted?

' _In her eyes scorched a fire to forge a blade to conquer the Black City itself, her foes fall without so much as a backwards glance. The Herald of Andraste is kind to those who would have good in their hearts, and is without mercy to all others.'_

Ayre's eyes widened, and she quickly shuffled to another page. Where was the humor?

' _Not even creatures of the Emerald Graves can match her; Bare hands wrapped around the throat of a Great Bear, snapping its neck before it can even hope to defend itself-'_

"Varric, what the hell is this?" Ayre offered the papers back, unsure if she should be offended.

The dwarf quirked a brow, reading what page she had been on. "That  _did_  happen, Inquisitor."

"...The bear pushed Cassandra down, it was obviously going to come after the rest of us." Ayre quickly defended herself, a flush spreading over her cheeks.

Varric stared, a slow smirk crossing his face. "Are you unaware of how fierce you can be in battle, Inquisitor? Especially when it comes to the seeker's well-being. Is there… something between you two; something deeper?"

Outside of the Inquisitor's quarters, Cassandra froze at hearing the question. Lowering her hand from knocking upon the wood, she pressed her ear to it instead. What was being discussed to include her and… deeper meanings?

Ayre stared at the rogue, settling back against the pile of pillows. Sighing, she rose a hand and rubbed at her brow. She suddenly felt far more drained than when she had first woken up…

"Cassandra is a very close friend to me… She is special." Ayre fumbled with her words, but scowled at Varric's growing grin.

"So, you and the Seeker…?"

"What? Oh, no! Cassandra isn't that sort of woman, and while I admire her greatly… I see her more as a sister."

A sister? Cassandra smiled sweetly, putting a hand to her chest. Not only had Ayre defended her values, but saw her as family?

"But I feel as if Cassandra thinks of me as a replacement for the Divine, instead of myself." Ayre admitted, running a hand through loose crimson locks. "Wait, why did you think there was something between her and I? I'm with Josephine…"

"You are? Well, that's not obvious." Varric quirked a brow, rifling through his papers. "I'll have to fix these…"

"It's not… obvious?" Ayre blinked, flushing darkly. She had thought she was taking it at a fast rate, but had her courting Josephine not even pinged anyone's radar?

Was  _Josephine_  even aware?

Knowing she had overheard more than was polite, Cassandra knocked gently on the door. "That you, seeker? I should be going anyway." Varric called for her, standing with a chuckle from Ayre's bedside.

"You're a force to be reckoned with, Inquisitor. Don't forget that." The rogue smirked, leaving the two alone in the room.

Cassandra was deeply flattered with what she had heard, an unknowing smile upon her lips as she took the chair by the younger woman's side. "Inquisitor…"

Ayre smiled to her, making a point to sit straighter. "I hope in your absence of being my watch, you had your shoulder looked at?" She quirked a thick brow, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.

With the bow of the seeker's head, it was clear the elder woman hadn't. "Cassandra! Even after my little speech?" Stern but slow, Ayre eased herself to sit on the edge of her bed.

"Everyone is asleep, but I've been resting it." The seeker tried to defend herself, a flush crossing her face. The Inquisitor stared, eyes narrowing.

"A pauldron still on does not a rested shoulder make." She pointed out, and Cassandra lowly sighed. Ayre smiled, shaking her head. "You're very stubborn. Come, sit, let me take a look at it."

Resigning herself to this fate, Cassandra sighed and relented. She eased off her remaining armor, setting it by the chair before she sat with her back against Ayre's bed. Between the Inquisitor's legs, she felt somewhat younger.

"Well, I didn't think you would actually listen to me." Ayre smiled, settling a hand upon Cassandra's shoulder. The older woman winced, though not as strongly as she had four days ago.

"I… thought about what you said, Inquisitor." Cassandra softly murmured, feeling the younger's hands roam along her shoulder.

"Please, call me Ayre." Wait, maybe this is why Varric thought they were together. This would certainly be quite the awkward scene to be walked in on…

"...Ayre." The seeker sighed, hanging her head. "You are more important than I am,  _but_ -" She cut off the Inquisitor's huff, glancing over her good shoulder. "I will make it a point to take less risks for you."

"Thank you…" The redhead smiled, pulling back the collar of Cassandra's jerkin. "Your skin is all bruised… Your shoulder might be sprained." She tutted, opening the drawer of her nightstand. "I've still got a bit of that ointment you gave me, may I?"

"...Of course." Cassandra eased more of her collar out of the way, giving a small jump when the cold ointment made contact with her skin. Within moments, the soreness was worked away and she sighed in content.

"Better?" Ayre grinned, gentle with the seeker. Okay, now she could see why Varric thought they were together…

"Did you know Varric thought-"

"I overheard." Cassandra flushed, the two falling quiet.

"O-oh… how much did you-"

"All of it… You think of me as a sister?"

Now with a red face herself, the Inquisitor cleared her throat. "I do…" The two of them fell into silence, awkwardness building up.

"It's… I used to be very close to my family." Ayre softly began, rubbing more ointment into the seeker's shoulder. "I had a brother, and a little sister. My parents disliked my… inclination towards women. Since I wasn't the heir, they happily left me to my own devices instead of having to publicly disown me."

Cassandra listened quietly, scowling settling deep into her expression. "I did not think the Trevelyan family so coarse."

"Oh, they are polite in company of others; Isn't everyone? I really didn't mind, but I do miss my siblings." Ayre smiled, massaging at the sore muscles. "The Inquisition… it feels like a family, our family. People we've chosen, people who would give their lives and more for this cause."

"Yet you do not wish for me to do the same?" Cassandra questioned, turning to catch the younger woman's gaze. The redhead paused, frowning faintly.

"And do not say that it isn't the same, because it is." The seeker quickly affirmed, cocking a thin brow.

"I… I fear that you may have placed your devotion in the Divine onto my shoulders. I am not holy, or maybe I am… I just do not want those closest to me to blindly give their lives-"

"I do  _nothing_ blindly. If I were to give my life for you, it is because you mean that much to me." Cassandra fully turned to face the Inquisitor, knelt before her.

Surprised, Ayre parted her lips to speak but never uttered a word as the door opened.

"Oh… am I interrupting?" Josephine seemed unsure of herself, and conflicted.

"...No, lady Montilyet." Cassandra rose, flushing as she knew this seemed rather inappropriate.

"I was just telling Cassandra that I see her as a sister, and very important to me. Make sure she actually sees a healer soon." Ayre smiled, clearing up the tension in the air.

Josephine visibly relaxed, chuckling as the seeker donned her armor again. "Of course… I was looking to speak with you first, A- lady Trevelyan." She smiled to Cassandra, the door shutting behind her.

"She's taking it rather well." Ayre teased, chuckling as she wiped her hands off with a cloth. Why had Josephine wandered all this way here? Wasn't it late?

"What time is it?" The redhead set the cloth away, beckoning the Antivan woman closer.

"It is rather late… I couldn't sleep." Josephine took to the chair by her bedside, and Ayre frowned. The older woman did seem tired; Faint circles under her eyes no doubt caused by fatigue.

"Why can't you sleep? I've had far too much of it lately myself, I'd hate to think I was stealing it from you." Ayre teased, though noticed the seriousness of Josephine's stare. "...What's wrong?"

Glancing to the door, the Antivan gave a soft sigh and returned her dark gaze to the redhead. "I cannot stop thinking of that report; You were so injured…"

"I'm fine now, Josephine… I swear there was no other way to save everyone." Ayre took her hand, squeezing gently. She was starting to feel tired again, and wondered just how severe those injuries were.

She knew Cassandra had been sugar coating it in front of Josephine…

"I realize this, and yet… We could have lost you;  _I_ could have lost you." Squeezing Ayre's hand in return, the elder chuckled dryly. "I don't even know how I can lose you when I don't even have you…"

Was this…? The redhead swallowed hard, clearing her throat. "Would you… like to have me?" No humor in her voice, it was raw with vulnerability and trust. Josephine seemed fairly shocked, as if not realizing she had been speaking aloud.

Ayre sat up, taking the elder's hands in both of hers. "Josephine… I truly care about you, and if you'll let me, I would jump at the chance to court you." Her words instilled more surprise in the elder woman; Josephine staring as if she couldn't believe her ears.

"You… would?" The Antivan could hardly keep her heart from pounding against her chest, free hand pressed tight over her bosom. Ayre smiled, nodding.

"I would… and I have something for you, actually." Ayre smiled, attempting to stand. Josephine stood before she could, urging her back down.

"I-I could get it, please don't over exert yourself-"

"Josephine, I am fine." Ayre assured, fully standing with the older woman's help. "Sit, and I will fetch it." She teased, winking down to her. She felt bandages around her stomach, and her legs. Body sore, she forced down the feeling to keep Josephine from worrying.

Sifting through her bag, she hid the gift behind her back as she made her way to sit back onto her bed. "Whew." She exhaled, chuckling at the ambassador's exasperated look.

"Ready?" She teased, enjoying watching Josephine fidget.

"Yes, what is it?" The elder woman seemed excited, and Ayre was glad for her foresight to get something meaningful.

A small crest-bearing boat was revealed from Ayre's back, and offered with two hands. "I found it in a shop in Orlais, merchant said it was the only one she's seen in decades."

The surprise upon Josephine's face rivaled her excitement; the Antivan gently taking the crest from her hands. "From sea to shore, we tame the waves… Ayre, this is… I thank you." She smiled, misty eyes glancing up to the Herald.

The redhead grinned, sheepishly rubbing the nape of her neck. "I'm glad you like it, I was worried it may have been damaged-" Confusion filtered in as she watched Josephine carefully set the crest away before lips captured her own.

Surprised, Ayre returned the kiss with the amount of passion the elder woman met her with. She had  _not_ expected that. "W-wow, ah…"

"You've deserved that kiss for quite some time." Josephine flushed, taking the crest as she stood. "We both need to rest… Goodnight, Ayre."

"G-goodnight, Josephine…" The redhead watched her take her leave, sitting heavily on the bed. "Varric better add  _that_  in his book, or I'll wring his neck."

* * *

 

**AN: I hope you've enjoyed the chapter; More delving into Cassandra's character and her relationship to the Inquisitor as well as really starting on romancing Josephine! Please, comment!**

 


	6. Letters Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution: There's gonna be some feels.

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Letters Lost**

* * *

Within the second day of consciousness and recovery, Ayre was beginning to become far more than restless. Cassandra did her best to keep the Inquisitor company, but the younger woman insisted she not spend all day cooped up; The seeker had her own duties, of course.

Josephine… Maker preserve her, Ayre hadn't seen much of the ambassador since the kiss. Was she regretting it- No, she couldn't let herself think such poisonous thoughts. The Antivan woman was no doubt busier than Ayre herself on a good day…

Elven servants had been her most constant visitors; Bathing her and changing her bandages. She knew there was nothing that could be done for her ribs; potions only good for easing the soreness.

The broken bones had been mended through magic, at least… But it would be days before the soreness ebbed away fully. Bored, freshly bathed, and incredibly annoyed at the slow passing of time, Ayre stared blankly at the wall. She wasn't exactly bedridden, but walking for a longer period than taking herself to the washroom wasn't ideal just yet.

Jumping in surprise when the door opened with a crack, the Inquisitor grasped a dagger from under her pillow. "Oi, shiny!" Sera's voice rang from the steps, though no one climbed them.

"...What?" Ayre called, confused. She let the dagger sink back under the pillow, unable to see the door from the bed, nor even the first few steps down.

"Oh! Wanted to make sure you weren't asleep."

"So… you kick the door open?" Which would have woken her, no doubt.

"W-well… Shut it, we're busting you out!" Sera finally came into view, along with Iron Bull; The qunari wearing a devious smirk.

"...How did you even get past Josephine?" No doubt if the ambassador had caught them shuffling towards her quarters, she would have stopped them.

"Shiny sleeves? She's having a bit of a toss with Sister Nightingale." Ayre stifled a smirk to Sera's reluctance to call Leliana any sort of nickname.

"They're fighting?" She asked, brows furrowing as she struggled to sit up. Bull nudged her up with his shoulder, grinning as he pointed out the balcony.

"I'm surprised you can't hear them. Sounds like an ex-lover's quarrel, if I know them… and I do." He chuckled, but frowned at Ayre's tight stare.

"Do you fancy one of them? What about Cassandra-?"

"Why is everyone assuming I'm in love with Cassandra?!" Ayre blurted out, huffing with a quickly reddening face. She just didn't get it!

Sera snorted, rolling her eyes. "It's only obvious, innit? You're always acting all devoted story-book hero with her. 'Oh no, a wound, let me kiss it! Mm-mm….' Ahem, what were we talking about?" The elf queried, shaking her head. "Oh, right, you wanting to hit the sack with the seeker!"

Ayre stared at her, dark skin almost as bright as her hair. "I… Do  _not_  offer to kiss Cassandra's wounds." She furtively bit, crossing her arms. "And I am with Josephine." She muttered, covering her face. Bull and Sera traded glances and soft whistles, snickering.

"Reckon if you were a man, Lady Stick-up-my-ass would be all over you." Sera offered, darting back when the Inquisitor swiped at her.

"Easy, boss." Bull grinned, holding her back with a hand. "We came to free you, remember. Though… Josephine, really?" He quirked a brow, seeming impressed. "Good for you… So, does that mean Cassandra is free?"

Ayre slapped the back of his head and he roared with laughter, kneeling at the bedside for a moment. The redhead paused, confused until the qunari lifted the bed clean off of the floor.

"H-hey!"

"Well, you can't very well leave the bed, can you?" Bull smirked, though hadn't seemed to have thought it out. "Hm… Can you hold on while I twist the bed to fit it through the door-?"

"No! Put my bed down…" Request accepted, Ayre sighed and shoved the blankets off of her. "I can walk, you know…" She struggled to her feet, wincing at the weight put upon wounded legs.

"S-see?"

"Oh yes, completely cured." Bull droned, shrugging his shoulders. "It was a good plan, you've got to admit." He traded a knowing glance with Sera, the two obviously not seeing the glaring flaws.

"Had you two planned on just carrying my bed down from my quarters, wherever you pleased?"

Sera scoffed. "Ew, no… I couldn't carry your fat noble arse anywhere!"

Swiping slowly at the elf, Ayre sighed at her own feebleness. "I could use an escape, I suppose." She murmured, stretching her legs as best as she could.

"That's the spirit." Bull slapped her back, and Sera picked her back up from the floor.

"Ugh." The Inquisitor gruffed, taking the half-empty bottle from her nightstand. Drinking the rest of it, she tossed it over her shoulder. It clanged against stone, Ayre quirking a brow as it swiveled on the floor before stopping.

"...Why did I do that? Cassandra was right, we've got to stop tossing the bottles everywhere. It's becoming a problem."

Bull quirked a brow, eyeing her up. "Uh… Sure, boss." Must be the medicine.

"Wait… What are Josephine and Leliana fighting about?" Damned these distractions! Ayre slipped on her coat, the familiar heaviness of idle items in her pockets making her feel cozy. Bull turned around as she set about changing her trousers, though Sera stared, rather lewdly.

"Hm, what? Oh… Ruffles found out- Ah… something… bad?" Sera suddenly seemed nervous, twiddling with her fingers.

Perhaps this wasn't just a lighthearted attempt at a jailbreak. "What happened?" Ayre glanced to Bull, but the qunari just shrugged.

"We don't know." He seemed honest enough…

The Inquisitor sighed, waving them away as she strode towards the landing. "I'll sort this out…" It always was truly up to her, wasn't it?

* * *

The winding staircase up to the rookery had not been kind to the Inquisitor; Ribs screaming in protest when she finally set upon the top stop. Josephine had Leliana so heated in argument that neither one had noticed her presence.

"How could you keep this from her?" Josephine shot, voice watery again. Whatever it was didn't sound good…

"It was to protect her." Leliana's eyes held a glare, but her voice wavered. Ayre didn't quite know which side to take, but suspected this issue was about her. It always came back to her, unfortunately.

"What's going on here?" Idly reminiscent of how she had tried to save Divine Justinia, Ayre's voice startled the two quarreling women. Leliana instantly put up a front; Arms crossing tight over her chest as she threw a sideways glance to Josephine.

She knew that glance; An attempt to keep secrets where they remained. Ayre heard footsteps behind her, a limped gait that gave way to who it was. "Inquisitor?" Cassandra came to her side rather quick, taking her arm gently.

"Did they wake you? I came to tell them to stop-"

"Bull and Sera woke me." Ayre assured, smiling softly to Cassandra before focusing on the other two. "What is this about?" She asked, stepping further into the room with the seeker at her side.

Josephine stared hard at Leliana, dark eyes sharp as any dagger. "We have terrible news, Inquisitor." Her voice was shaky, and Ayre's brows furrowed tight in worry.

The ambassador swiped a letter from Leliana's desk, the paper worried over and tied with a simple black ribbon. She offered it over to Ayre, eyes averted. "Read the date, first."

Increasingly on edge, the Inquisitor unrolled the paper and set her eyes first to the date. "This was sent over a month ago?" Did that hold significance? Lips quirking to smile, it was quickly lost over Josephine glaring at Leliana once more.

The spymaster had stepped closer, hand poised as if to take the letter away. Ayre held it tighter, and her fellow redhead sighed softly. "Perhaps it is best that you read it now, with us."

Cassandra's brows furrowed tight, her grip on Ayre's arm tightening just so. Whatever the letter held, it was surely nothing good.

Silent, Ayre returned viridian eyes to the paper. It was in a fanciful script, but the words gouged into every wound she had and made more; Slicing deep into her very soul.

' _How the birds cried as their masters were slaughtered, your agents were no match against our mages. The Venatori had their fill of blood that night, though there is no short supply of peasant noble blood in the Free Marches-'_

Ayre glanced up, shocked as she gazed between her two advisors. It seemed this wasn't even the worst part, both women avoiding her gaze. She felt Cassandra steel herself at her side, and continued on.

' _Do you regret sending your agents to keep watch here, Sister Nightingale? If not for them, we would not have found House Trevelyan, nor little Lilith. I assure you, she suffered almost endlessly until I crushed her throat with the sole of my boot. I wouldn't want Ostwick stench on myself, after all. With love, Calpernia. I hope you enjoy the parting gift; Lilith Trevelyan's hair ribbon.'_

Everything suddenly felt far too hot. Her ears rang, drowning out all sound. The letter fell from her grip, the ribbon loose between her fingers. Cassandra must have read it over her shoulder, the elder woman rounding on Leliana.

"How could you have kept this?" Her voice was sharp, though emotions ran deep in her gaze. Leliana bowed her head, submissive in gesture only.

Ayre still hadn't moved; Eyes pinned to the ribbon she now clutched. Josephine must be calling her name, but she couldn't hear, couldn't move.

Her sister… dead? She just couldn't fathom it, Lilith had been so young; innocent…! She was bright eyes and freckles, crooked teeth with a gap and an adorable lisp… She was… gone.

Throat tight, Ayre hadn't noticed her weak legs had given out until her body was stopped from falling completely. Cassandra braced at her side, though her tongue was busy berating Leliana still.

On her knees, Ayre lifted her gaze for Josephine and suddenly an explosion of sound hit her ears. "I-Inquisitor, please, can you hear me?"

"I was trying to protect her." Leliana kept repeating, deflecting all questions from Cassandra. The spymaster's hands were wrung together, the woman suddenly seeming years younger.

A fierce sting hit Ayre's eyes, hot tears starting to trail their way down her cheeks. Cassandra reacted harsher in response, sinking to her knees herself to cradle the Inquisitor's head to her bosom.

Josephine didn't seem to know how to act, though she looked as guilty as Leliana. The Antivan couldn't even fathom one of her younger siblings dying; Being murdered no less… The pain blossoming in her chest for Ayre only increased her assumption of how badly the Inquisitor felt this blow.

"Shock?" Cassandra asked, noticing the young woman in her arms hadn't attempted to escape nor wipe her tears. They fell steadily, into the floor and across the emblazoned seeker emblem on her chest.

"Pain." Leliana agreed, slipping back her hood. Her eyes were watery too, but she refused herself the right to cry. This was entirely her fault.

Josephine had utterly no idea how to soothe Ayre's hurts, and felt far too small.

Cassandra eased to face Ayre on her knees, cupping the woman's face. Drowned forest eyes were unfocused, a clear indication that the Inquisitor was no longer in the room with them.

Exhaling a soft breath, Cassandra steeled her resolve and leaned in; A chaste kiss captured from Ayre's lips. Josephine almost felt jealous, but knew the seeker held no romantic feelings in her action.

Ayre quickly returned to attention, eyes widening as she let Cassandra pull back. She cleared her throat, a furious flush coating her cheeks if only for her having forgotten to breathe.

"I…" Her voice shook, and she cleared her throat. Fat tears fell over her cheeks when she closed her eyes for a harsh blink, feeling far too hot. She was holding the black ribbon tight in one hand, nails digging into her palm harshly.

Cassandra gently helped her to her feet, braced at her side as she held her chin aloft. Leliana stood with her head bowed slightly, waiting for any punishment to come.

A sudden resolve struck the Inquisitor, and Ayre took a step towards the spymaster.

"I-Inquisitor, please, she was only doing what she thought best-" Josephine tried to reason, but Cassandra merely shook her head.

Neither woman had seen Leliana look so intimidated in quite some time, and yet it was more than just that; The spymaster felt shame, guilt. Whatever Ayre was to do, it would be too good.

Ayre gingerly shook Cassandra off, raising the hand that was free of the ribbon. Leliana closed her eyes, resigning herself to any amount of pain or torture; She deeply deserved it.

No physical pain came with Ayre's touch, the Inquisitor's arm winding around Leliana sharply. Instead, the pain was emotional; Ayre was comforting  _her_? The embrace was tightened by the spymaster, gloved hands digging tight against the back of the younger's coat.

" _I know what you did was right."_ Ayre whispered, voice shaking almost as much as her body. She held tight to Leliana, refusing to let the elder blame herself. Azure eyes closed tight, tears falling as she held tight to the Inquisitor in response.

Josephine's throat was tight, but she held her composure until Ayre reached pitifully for her; Her embrace with the spymaster ending as Leliana began to cry more openly. Cassandra secured her fellow Hand of the Divine, dedicated to being the pillar of strength for the three of them.

The Antivan woman lured Ayre into her arms, pressing her lips into crimson locks. The Inquisitor was not just a legend born from stories and forged to fit their needs; She was human, had a soul and a heart. Both were broken from this, and would no doubt take time to heal.

" _Ayre…"_ Josephine gently soothed her, silent tears staining her cheeks. How had they all come to care about this young woman so much? Cassandra and Leliana had both grown and matured since the day of the Conclave; From treating Ayre wretchedly to perhaps having a closer kinship with her than anyone else.

She had found Ayre attractive at first, but the first inklings of real feelings for the younger woman… When Haven was being razed to the ground, and the woman had been prepared to give her life to save them all. When they had found her, lost and wandering almost frozen in the snow, Josephine had felt such a sublime happiness…

" _You should return to bed, my lady…"_ Gently, she pulled away from Ayre to catch her gaze. The tears had seemed to stop, but no doubt they would flow freely once more. The Inquisitor cleared her throat, mumbling some apology about staining her silken dress.

Josephine would have none of that, gingerly brushing damp rogue locks of crimson from Ayre's cheeks. The younger woman forced a faint smile before she turned, free hand raising for the nape of Leliana's neck.

The spymaster flinched on reflex, but Ayre cooed her into relaxing; The younger woman resting her brow against Leliana's. " _Please, don't blame yourself."_ She whispered, petting along the elder's hair before she pulled away.

Cassandra's expression was mixed; troubled. Would Ayre want her near, at this moment? The Inquisitor had said that she was like a sister, and yet, her real sister was now dead.

Ayre stared to the seeker, a weak but genuine smile gracing her lips. She rose the hand with the ribbon, offering it to Cassandra. " _My hair was never tame enough for something so beautiful… Would you honor me by wearing this in your braid?"_ She had barely made it through the request, throat closing again.

In her-? Cassandra lowered her head, swallowing thickly before she raised her chin proudly. "I would." She accepted the ribbon between two hands as if it were an exalted weapon; Holding it close to her heart.

" _I… I'll be in my quarters."_ Weak, heartbroken and almost listless, Ayre turned her back and left the three older women in her wake.

* * *

**AN: Looks like we all just took a ride on the FEELINGS TRAIN. This idea had been stuck in my head for a while, so I thought I should flesh it out while I felt I could do it justice. My Inquisitor is a multi-faceted character with a complex personality, and I hope you are enjoying getting to know her. Thank you for reading, and please comment!**


	7. Tensions Wane

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Tensions Wane**

* * *

No one in the Inquisition had seen hide or hair of their leader for a solid two days. Josephine and Leliana no longer fought, and the air was thick with an uncomfortable silence in the war room, and beyond. Even the tavern was plagued by it; soldiers shifting with anxiety and fear.

The already low morale was struck to the lowest point; Even the shipment of their supplies didn't do much to raise it. They all longed to see their leader, even if a great many few had no clue why she had isolated herself.

Cassandra took guard up outside of Ayre's quarters, sword at her hip a constant even so. She had not tried to interrupt the Inquisitor's recover; She knew that both her physical and emotional ailments would take time.

She didn't, however, expect that time to end after three days.

Ayre opened the door, dressed fully as if it were but another day. She quirked a brow to Cassandra's back, watching the seeker turn in surprise. "Have you been here this whole time?"

"Yes." Lowering her hand from the hilt of her sword, she drew closer and nudged Ayre back into the doorway. No one had noticed the movement, and Cassandra closed the door.

"This doesn't have something to do with that kiss, does it? Because you may have to compete with Josephine." Ayre tried to tease, but the elder woman knew that her heart wasn't in it.

"The kiss was to snap you from shock." Cassandra reminded, folding her arms. "...Are you alright?" She tried to reach deeper with her words, yet still didn't know just what to say.

The Inquisitor tilted her head, obviously about to deny it. "I am… still in mourning, but my body is feeling less weak. I am starving, as well."

Cassandra frowned, having expected a flippant lie. Perhaps now the redheaded woman trusted her completely? The black ribbon that had been gifted was shown prominent in the braid crowning her head, and Ayre noticed it with a strong smile despite everything.

"...You wear it beautifully." The Inquisitor commented, chuckling when she brought a faint blush to Cassandra's cheeks. The seeker seemed unsure; hesitant.

"Everyone is…"

"Scraping the bottom of the morale barrel? I assumed as much… Come, we can talk while we meet the others for breakfast." Ayre took her arm gently, leading her into the main hall.

It was early in the morning yet, and Josephine was thankfully not in her office. Cassandra might have interfered if the ambassador had tried to stop them, though if that would be a good idea, she didn't know.

The dining hall was quiet, though occupied by a few soldiers. Sera looked up to their entry, beaming as she stood. "Did Andraste take as many hibernations as you?" She quipped, though frowned at the weak chuckle it brought.

"Right, still tired and sore. I get that." The elf quieted, the hall's atmosphere lifting to happier spirits. Her soldiers saluted Ayre with smiles, the mood rising just by seeing her.

Two bowls of porridge later and the Inquisitor sought to leave the hall. Cassandra stayed by her side, waving away those who wished to be closer. Exiting into the courtyard, Ayre glanced over her shoulder towards the seeker.

"Do you want to spar?" The redhead's question caught the elder woman off-guard, and she paused.

"I do not think that would be best…"

"I do." The accented voice distracted both their gazes, Leliana approaching from behind Cassandra. Her normal uniform was replaced by something scrappier, and it was clear that Leliana would have sought Ayre for this regardless of the opportunity.

Her hood was gone, leaving her hair free to be touched by wind and sunlight. Ayre seemed to be on her guard instantly, eyes hard before they softened.

"Leliana… I don't wish to hurt you." The Inquisitor spoke, hoping that to be the last word. Of course, no one but the spymaster ever got the last word.

"As if you could score a hit on me." Leliana tried to goad, her armor seeming to inspire awe in a few older soldiers. Ayre noticed, quirking a brow as she watched the spymaster circle her. A drapery of fine red spilled forth from Leliana's neck, a symbol embroidered into the crimson fabric. What significance did that hold, she wondered?

"This is the armor I wore when I fought by the Hero of Ferelden's side, these daggers helped down an Archdemon. If you were to score a hit on me, I would be genuinely surprised." Leliana held two daggers, shorter than what Ayre was used to. They flitted between fingers deftly, the spymaster wielding them in challenge.

"If you wish to fight, I will act only as the dummy." Ayre crossed her arms, even when the flat belly of a blade slapped her cheek. She glared, though held a hand up to stop Cassandra from interfering.

"I know a great deal about you, and your affiliation with the Cousland girl." Ayre's voice had an edge, as if she were talking down a woman almost ten years her senior. Leliana glared back, unsure of what the next words would be.

"I am thankful that I have turned you away from the dark path you were heading towards after the Divine's death. I am sure she wouldn't have wanted you in so much pain."

Ayre's words gave her surprise, and Leliana faltered. She struck at the Inquisitor again, this time the pommel of her dagger hitting the younger's gut. Ayre grunted, but did nothing to fight back or prevent the next hit; An open-palmed strike to her cheek.

Cassandra glared, about to restrain Leliana before the Inquisitor shook her head. "At least fight back." The seeker bit, gesturing to all those watching.

"I won't." Ayre refused, though her cheek stung. It was clear she may be losing patience; Leliana capitalizing on the observation by taunting her again.

"You won't, or can't?" The spymaster asked, circling around to Ayre's back. She was doing this for the Inquisitor's own good…

"Leliana…" Ayre warned, getting another jab from the hilt of a dagger. It was clear that she was becoming tired of this; Tensions rising between her and Leliana.

"Why won't you fight back? I kept that dreadful news of your-" Voice cut off as a gloved hand wrapped around her throat, Leliana stiffened in surprise. Finally, her punishment…

"Everyone, get back to work." Ayre commanded, glancing over her shoulder for Cassandra. The seeker only glanced away, disobeying that order as all other company swiftly left the courtyard to them.

"Leliana…" The Inquisitor backed the older woman against the stone wall, hand falling from her throat. "I know what you're doing." She hissed, though her actions with Leliana were gentle.

"You feel guilt over keeping it from me, and you want punishment; Redemption." Ayre's glare withered, and her shoulders dropped. "You have to know that even mercy… can be a weapon." She murmured lowly, sighing.

Cassandra cocked a brow, lingering closely. Leliana furrowed her brows, the realization dawning on her.

" _Though stung with a hundred arrows, though suffering from ailments both great and small, his heart was strong and he moved on."_ Ayre spoke softly, reciting a chant as she gazed into Leliana's eyes.

"Mercy. Forgiveness… I dual-wield these both when necessary. I've learned from the former mayor of Crestwood; Violence isn't always the answer. I've tried to spare you, but perhaps that has hurt you just as much as a physical blow." Ayre seemed saddened, bowing her head and resting her brow to Leliana's shoulder.

"Forgiving you for keeping it from me has denied you any ease of your guilt, and even for this, I am sorry." Ayre eased away from the spymaster, gut tight as she averted her gaze. "Even though it was to protect me… I will admit that it hurt. It makes me wonder if you've other secrets, those that concern me and those that don't."

Cassandra kept silent, watching between the both of them intently. The Inquisitor had greatly matured since having held her prisoner… Ayre glanced over her shoulder, beckoning the seeker close. "There is something I should have told you both, about what happened at Therinfal Redoubt."

"With the Templars?" Cassandra questioned, suddenly on her guard. "You told us that Lord Seeker Lucius had been set upon by that envy demon?"

"Yes… What I didn't tell you was that the demon then tried to set upon me; It had led us into a trap to try and assume my form." Ayre kept her hand on Leliana, fingering the leather of her shoulder to keep herself calm.

Cassandra's brows furrowed, but she urged the Inquisitor to continue. It took the younger woman a moment to secure her words, but she spoke softly to draw them further into the story.

"It imprisoned everyone; struck down any who stood in its path. I was forced to watch it as it assumed my own visage… Josephine in a cell, Cassandra little more than a slave at its feet…" Ayre shook her head to dispel the image, top lip curling into a sneer.

"What makes me sick to the stomach, though, is how the world reacted. So many others brought up arms to  _protect_  it. Instead of seeking to destroy, they sought to join. It was sickening…" She tightened her grip on Leliana's arm, letting up after she realized.

"It learned about me, knew the anger I try so hard to hide. Maybe I am vengeful, and maybe I enjoy violence far more than I should… but I do know that the envy demon never once listened to any of you." Ayre pointed out, glancing back to Cassandra.

"It never had anyone to corral it; Josephine to tell it when things were tensing, Cassandra to make them bow to common sense. Nor you, Leliana, to make sure things were quiet when needed." The Inquisitor gently moved from the redhead, seeming much calmer now.

"I know that with all of you helping me, I will never succumb to such a thing. Forgiveness and mercy will be my greatest weapons, when I can wield them."

Leliana listened, a weight rising from her shoulders. "This… makes me feel much better, more than a fight would." She admitted, feeling silly as she holstered her daggers. "Maker, I haven't worn this in… a decade."

"I think it rather suits you." Ayre smiled, no ill will between the two. She closed distance, tightening the knot of crimson fabric just below the dip of ample breasts.

"And might I say, Parthena Cousland is one lucky woman." The Inquisitor teased, surprised to see the faint flush spread over Leliana's cheeks.

"Oh, don't you try and be sweet with me. You've already kissed Cassandra, Josephine might be beside herself with jealousy." Leliana teased, the seeker flushing darkly as she tried to sputter a rebuttal.

At the mention of the Antivan, Ayre frowned softly. "I should speak to Josephine, soon. I will see you both later…" She excused herself, leaving Leliana and Cassandra alone in the courtyard.

"..." Cassandra gained a small smirk, drawing to Leliana's side. "I haven't seen this much of you in quite some time." She teased, poking the bare skin of the underbelly of the spymaster's arm.

"Oh? I have not attended a party in quite some time… Perhaps we shall amend that."

"Be it your smallclothes on the chantry board this time…"

* * *

Josephine's office was still empty when Ayre wandered in, and the redhead hummed to herself. Striding to the Antivan's desk, the Inquisitor smiled at seeing the gift she had offered prominently displayed. The crest-bearing boat had a stand made to look like water, looking everything like a trade ship on its way.

Affection bloomed in her heart and Ayre took a knee, clasping her hands before the desk to utter a prayer. " _And thus fell the eye of the Maker upon Andraste, she who would be raised up from outcast to become His bride. From her lips would fall the Chant of Light, at her command would the legions of righteousness fall upon the world."_

"Inquisitor?" The ambassador's voice sounded both surprised and enthralled, no doubt wondering why Ayre chose her desk to make a momentary altar.

"Josephine." The redhead stood, putting a hand to her stomach. Her gut ached from Leliana's strike, and she realized her cheek still felt hot.

"Someone has hit you?" Josephine sounded beside herself, eyes wide as she closed distance to cradle the stinging cheek. Ayre winced faintly, though smile to the concern.

"Leliana… helped me, and I helped her as well. You should see what she's wearing." Ayre teased, raising her hand to take the elder's own.

Josephine's eyes gained a hint of amusement, and she chuckled softly. "You are too kind." She murmured, voice low as she gazed into viridian. Suddenly, she had the urge to kiss the Inquisitor again.

"I hope so." Ayre spoke just as softly, winding her free arm around the older woman's waist to draw her in closer.

"Goodness…" Josephine whispered, free hand gliding along the bare skin of the arm around her. Distance decreased, their lips met in another passionate kiss; the two barely able to keep it chaste even with the heated emotion.

" _I have missed you so."_ Josephine spoke once they drew apart, lips barely separated. Ayre hummed low and thick in her throat, resting their brows together.

" _I missed you too."_ The Inquisitor kissed her brow, drawing away before she could steal a less than polite kiss. Her voice was husky when she spoke again, drawing a shiver from the ambassador. "I should behave before I ask you to join my bed tonight…"

"A-Ayre!" Flushing spectacularly, Josephine gave a tiny shove to the Inquisitor's shoulder, sparking a chuckle. The older woman sobered her composure, kissing Ayre again before the redhead could draw away.

"I have work to do, and no doubt there are a stack of reports for you to sign." Josephine smiled, drawing away after another stroke of muscle.

Ayre quirked a grin, running her hand over the arm Josephine had touched. Warm…

"I'm sure I do, yes… Will you join me for a drink, tonight?" The younger woman held her hand until Josephine sat behind her desk, a charming smile playing upon her lips.

"I would like that." The ambassador smiled, wetting her lips. This only drew the Inquisitor in further, another kiss about to be had before another voice interrupted them.

"Inquisitor…" Leliana's voice was playful, yet an underlying edge was there. Straightening from Josephine's side, Ayre cocked a brow. Josephine copied the expression, though subtly of course.

The spymaster was still in her previous garb, and seemed in much higher spirits. "If we could talk in private?" She gestured up, no doubt to the rookery. Ayre glanced to Josephine, wondering if she should be scared.

"Leliana…" The ambassador have a stern warning, but the Inquisitor relented with a smirk.

"Of course. I will see you tonight, Josephine." Ayre ghosted a hand over the nape of the elder's neck, relishing in her shiver before she left with Leliana.

"Goodness…"

* * *

Once in relative privacy in the rookery, Leliana led Ayre towards her desk. "I am glad that you have gotten close with Josephine, but I must warn you that she is an innocent in love."

"An innocent? With the way she kissed me the first time, I wouldn't have suspected." Ayre seemed amused instead of warned, leaning into the table.

Her fellow redhead quirked a mischievous grin, shaking her head. "I said an innocent in  _love_. Not in her desires as a woman." She clarified, watching Ayre's smile fall.

"Oh." Now, what was this feeling of jealousy…?

"Not by me." Leliana assured, chuckling lowly. "No doubt in her years as a bard, no?"

"Yes… No doubt." Ayre ignored the jealousy, feeling silly for having felt it at all. "I'm not looking to break Josephine's heart… I think I may love her."

Leliana stopped dead, eyes seeking the Inquisitor's own. Seeing only truth behind the fade-touched gaze, the spymaster smiled sweetly. "I am glad to hear that. You two… are an appealing couple." Her cheeks gained color, and she chuckled lowly.

"You almost remind me of Parthena and myself."

"Where is this famous Parthena, anyway? I'm sure the Inquisition would quadruple in support if she were to even be seen next to me." Ayre teased, though felt the good mood shift.

"She is… trying to find a cure for her calling. The tainted blood within her may take over at any moment, and she wanted to be away from me in case it did." Leliana sighed, bowing her head.

Ayre frowned, closing distance to gently embrace her spymaster. "If anyone could find a cure for such a thing, surely it would be her." She comforted, feeling Leliana chuckle against her shoulder.

"That is true… Ah, I forgot to mention this earlier…" Drawing back, the older woman smirked softly. "We've an invitation to the Winter Palace." The idle fear in Ayre's eyes made her laugh, the melodious noise causing her crows to sing.

* * *

**AN: The Winter Palace ball grows near! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, please comment!**


	8. A Waltz to Remember

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**A Waltz To Remember**

* * *

Once the crows quieted, Ayre cleared her throat and neared Leliana. "Just when is this masquerade ball?" She was amused by the idea of yet more masks for the Orlesians to wear, but also worried.

"It's a month away."

"...So, why did you tell me about it?" The Inquisitor cocked a brow, and Leliana shot her a surprised glance.

"It's a month away…  _Only a month_."

"I'm confused." The younger woman freely admitted, jumping when another voice joined in with a chuckle.

"Oh my dear, she truly doesn't know?" Vivienne rounded closer, the two elder woman smirking at Ayre.

"That there are… threesomes at these parties?" Ayre tried to tease, yet hadn't figured out quite how to flirt with Vivienne. The Knight Enchanter gave a soft chuckle either way, while Leliana tossed her a considering glance.

Ayre wasn't sure which had her ears burning.

"There are, but none that will be involving myself." Vivienne assured, sizing the Inquisitor up. "The ball is but a month away, and we need to get you and whoever you deign to take fitted."

"Ah, well-"

"Not to mention teaching you how to dance." Leliana spoke, tapping her chin. The Inquisitor cocked a brow, crossing her arms loose over her chest.

"My dear Nightingale… I  _am_ of noble blood, I believe I know how to dance." The rogue grinned, though her dashing smile fell a bit when both older women set their eyes onto her.

"So… as a Free Marcher, you know  _all_ of the popular Orlesian dances? And, by popular, I mean those that are in favor  _this_ season?" Vivienne cocked a brow, making the Inquisitor shrink down.

"Ah… Perhaps I spoke too soon." Ayre flushed, tugging at the collar of her coat. She glanced around the rookery, eyes finding Leliana again.

"We will teach you, in your quarters. It's arguably the biggest space… Inside, at least." There was a sparkle in Leliana's eyes… Something that put Ayre highly on edge.

"And perhaps Josephine would like to be your dancer partner… or better yet, Cassandra-"

"What is it with you people!" Ayre suddenly blurted, covering her mouth. "I-I mean… First there was Varric, then Bull… Do you honestly think I'm in love with Cassandra?"

"I don't, nor did I say." Leliana teased, Vivienne picking it up. "Darling, are you?"

"N-no! She's… like a sister, as I have said  _many_ times." At the mention of family, the Inquisitor suddenly felt drained. No, she couldn't distance herself again…

Vivienne frowned, a glance shared with Leliana. Ayre had no doubt that the Knight Enchanter had been told…

"We won't tease you… any more than usual, dear." Vivienne promised, chuckling softly. "We'll meet you in your quarters… I suggest you ask Josephine to join yourself."

Ayre nodded, easing from the rookery first. Being taught to dance… She felt like a younger woman; A mere teenager all aflutter over her dancing tutor, a woman twice her age and utterly beautiful.

Josephine was even more breathtaking than any woman she had seen in her life, however… Maker, her mind was overrun with images of the Antivan woman. Her scent, the way her skin felt under her palm…

Throat suddenly dry, Ayre's cheeks grew ruddy before she cleared her throat. It was just an invitation to dance… Supervised by the Leliana and Vivienne. No need to get all hot and bothered.

"Inquisitor?" Cassandra's voice ripped her from her thoughts, Ayre blankly staring at her. The seeker seemed concerned, but amused.

Shaking her head to free herself, the Inquisitor cleared her throat. "Ah… Forgive me, I was… It doesn't matter. I'm on my way to pick up Josephine… Leliana says there is only a month for me to learn all the latest Orlesian dances."

Cassandra cocked a brow high, giving a disgruntled noise. "Dancing… I never thought much of it." She admitted, walking with Ayre towards the ambassador's office.

"But… you know how to?" Ayre elbowed her gently, grinning. She was rewarded with a scowl, and chuckled softly. "You should dance with me, sometime."

"I feel as if your flirting has only increased."

"It's not flirting… not really." The younger argued, knocking gently on the frame of Josephine's door before she entered. "Darling?" Ayre teased, relishing the flush that came to Josephine's face.

"Though I do tend to lose time in my work, it is impossible that it's time for wine." Josephine teased back, signing another document before giving the two her full attention.

"I'm afraid we may have to have wine another night; Leliana needs me to learn the newest dances for the ball at Halamshiral. She thinks you may be able to help?" Ayre smiled, pulling Cassandra along with her into the room.

"And, we have  _got_ to get our Lady Seeker on the floor as well."

"Oh?" Josephine gained a devilish smile, setting away all reports to stand. Cassandra sputtered, not able to decline fast enough.

"Then we shall definitely see to that." Josephine chuckled, taking Ayre's free arm. The Inquisitor smirked to Cassandra, leaning to kiss the Antivan's cheek softly before she escorted the both to her quarters.

As Sera passed by, the eld gawked and pointed excitedly. "That's two for one for you!"

* * *

"Again." Leliana ordered, plucking the strings of Ayre's lute. She could tell the other rogue knew how to play, and would use that to her advantage. Unfortunately, Ayre was a slow learner; Her biggest achievement was being able to  _not_  trample upon Josephine's toes.

Vivienne counted the steps, tutting when Ayre was slow on them. "We should have started practicing two months ago." She lamented, sighing.

Cassandra was perched on the edge of the couch's cushion, watching with interest. "It is just the same footwork as in battle." She offered her help, though winced when Ayre missed another step.

Frustrated, the Inquisitor stopped and pulled back from Josephine. The Antivan smiled in patience, patting a bare arm a second longer than was necessary.

"I don't know… Maybe if I saw it first?" Ayre grinned, glancing to Leliana. The redhead quirked a brow, handing the lute over as she took the noble's place. "Let's see…" Ayre's fingers founds the chords of the lute, the song she began to play much different than idle notes.

"Are you sure you weren't a bard?" Leliana teased, taking Josephine's hand and settling one at the small of her back. She showed Ayre the dance slowly, the Inquisitor slowing the song to match.

Cassandra enjoyed the music, reclining against the back of the couch. Vivienne seemed to gather an idea, and smirked softly. "Perhaps you need to dance alongside as you watch, my dear?" She asked of the Inquisitor, Ayre missing a note and causing a laugh.

"Then… who will play the music?" Ayre tried to back out of it, but was forced to set the lute away.

"I will call the steps." Vivienne smirked, gesturing Cassandra stand as she offered the redhead up. The seeker grimaced but rose, taking the Inquisitor's hand. She imitated Leliana's posture, but Ayre drew back.

"A-ah, but, I'm supposed to lead?" The Inquisitor was pulled back, the seeker smirking as she shook her head. "I don't know how to follow…"

"Just do everything backwards."

"I can barely do them forwards!"

Cassandra sighed but relented, awkwardly repositioning herself. Ayre's hand gently cupped the small of her back, the seeker's hand in her own. "That's better." The Inquisitor teased, though became painfully aware of Josephine watching.

The Antivan tossed a wink, heat filling the youngest's face as she started to watch the other two.

"Forgive me if I mess up, Cassandra." Ayre helplessly smiled, doing her best to follow the intricate motions. With the seeker pressed against herself, it was a little hard to behave.

Not that she would ever act upon her desires, how minimal they were. Cassandra was attractive, but truthfully, appealed more to her familial needs.

Leliana led Josephine into a dip, and so Ayre did to Cassandra. The seeker's cheeks were flush, and the Inquisitor gave a dashing grin.

"You completed one dance, however slowly." Vivienne drew her back into the present, and Ayre righted the both of them.

"Ah, well… I was actually distracted. Cassandra, you're a much better dancer than I thought." The Inquisitor chuckled, having her hand taken by Josephine. Was the Antivan jealous? How cute…

Pulled into the ambassador, Ayre was abruptly led into closer and  _much_  saucier motions. She was almost embarrassed, cheeks darkening in color until she realized it was another dance.

Another hour passed before they were exhausted but amused; Ayre laid out on the floor as Josephine sat beside Cassandra on the couch. "Dancing is incredibly hard work." The Inquisitor spoke, not an ounce of sarcasm.

"Truly it is, dear… But, at least you've learned two dances." Vivienne chuckled, standing from her chair. "I think we should leave the Inquisitor to recuperate." She suggested, giving Leliana a look.

The spymaster smirked, offering a hand to Cassandra to help her up.

"I will be a moment." Josephine offered an empty promise, the three elder women chuckling softly. Soon, the two were left alone; Ayre reclining back on her elbows.

"What a night." She broke the silence, smiling when Josephine flushed. Ayre stood, brushing herself off and removing her coat. She had wanted to before the dancing started, but figured it inappropriate. The thin tunic underneath was smoothed down, Ayre giving an inviting grin to Josephine.

"You are too adorable." The Antivan's accent was thickened, her gaze averting at hearing it herself. She fumbled with her hands, busying herself with finding the wine Ayre had mentioned earlier that day.

The Inquisitor sat upon her couch, grateful she hadn't moved it near the fire. She was certain she was sweating; Half hoping Josephine didn't notice, and half hoping she did.

"This wine is chilled?" Josephine found surprise in her voice, though the cold of the bottle against warm palms was welcomed.

"Dorian advised me to keep it as such, even performing a spell on the bottle. Perfectly safe to drink, of course." Ayre smiled, watching the older woman collect two glasses.

"Josephine?" Ayre leaned forward, elbows atop her knees as she studied the elder woman. She received a questioning hum in response, and Josephine sat beside her with a smile.

"You… are so breathtakingly beautiful." Ayre steadied the hand pouring their drinks, lest the light wine be spilled. "And I don't just mean your looks." She set away the bottle, passing Josephine's glass to her.

The Antivan was flush even before her first sip, giving a faint shiver from the cold. "That is quite refreshing." She smiled, settling a hand atop Ayre's thigh.

"It is…" The Inquisitor's gaze on her was soulful, and with another sip of wine, she set her glass onto the table. "I am pleased to announce that the contract in the House of Repose has been destroyed. You're free." Ayre winked, fidgeting before she spoke again.

"Josephine… I want more than to just court you. I think-"

"Before you say anything so achingly sweet… I have terrible news." Josephine turned to face her more, raising her hands to cup Ayre's jawline. "...I am engaged."

"...to me?" The Inquisitor seemed baffled, then utterly crushed before she realized it may not have been with Josephine's permission.

"My parents started the betrothal to this… Otranto." The Antivan woman seemed heartbroken as well, pressing a brush of their lips together. "I am so sorry, but… we will have to cease our relationship until I can break the engagement."

The look in fade-touched forest was almost too much to bear. "I understand… As heartbreaking as that is." She admitted, giving a shaky laugh. Suddenly she felt as though she struggled to breathe, clearing her throat even as Josephine clung to her tunic.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ayre asked, lifting a hand to stroke the elder's cheek. Josephine leaned into her touch, closing her eyes.

"Nothing… Nothing short of challenging him to a duel, of course." The ambassador chuckled, though it was clear she was joking.

A gleam lit up in Ayre's eyes, and she smirked before hiding it. Josephine sighed, turning her face to kiss the middle of the younger's palm before she stood.

"I will have to settle this myself, Ayre… Inquisitor." The title hurt, but Ayre new it was only temporary.

"Of course, Lady Montilyet." Ayre stood to escort her out, but Josephine was already gone. Sighing roughly, she returned to the couch and all but threw herself upon it.

Perhaps tomorrow would be an easier day…

* * *

**AN: I hope you've enjoyed yet another chapter! As a guilty indulgence of myself, watch out for the next chapter that will have a dual separate story release. That's all the hints I'm giving now! Please, comment!**


	9. Dueling Hearts

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Dueling Hearts**

* * *

The next morning, Ayre all but threw the doors to the war room open. It was still early, and it was clear the Inquisitor hadn't gotten much sleep. However, no matter the hour, the spymaster was always nearby.

"You got my missive, then?" Ayre asked, locking the doors behind her. She didn't want anyone interrupting them. Striding to the grand table, she swiped the figure that represented her and toyed with it nervously.

"I did. You rather upset my crows by sending in that pigeon… wherever did you even find one?" Leliana cocked a brow to her, her uniform having returned. Her hood was down, the older woman still waking up.

"A pigeon? I thought it was one of your crows; It was black and- Oh… It was also dark when I sent the missive. Well, at any rate-" The Inquisitor waved the matter off, setting her figure down.

"I need to know everything about this man Josephine is engaged to. This… Lord Otranto."

"Adorno Ciel Otranto." Leliana recited off his entire name, causing Ayre to pause. "He is a noble from Antiva… There is actually surprisingly little information about the man himself, but his family…"

"Oh, go on." Ayre grinned, stepping closer to the older woman. Leliana gave a similar grin, toying with the doll of herself.

"The greatest recent scandal in the Otrantos' history is when they cheated the Terrazas of several of their holdings." Leliana began, indicating the map. She glanced to Ayre, a chuckle following her next few words.

"It wasn't the act itself that drew attention, but that it was  _clumsily_ done. Blood was spilled among both families in the ensuing arguments about the faux pas, and it has remained a bitter moment between the two houses. Although the Otrantos have buried the details, even mentioning the name Terraza in their presence is ill-advised." Leliana finished off the information with a smirk, shaking her head.

"I shall be respectful of his woundings, then. I will be on my utmost good behavior, and almost mention the Terrazas a minimum of five times." Ayre's expression was serious, yet her voice held deep amusement.

Leliana locked eyes with her, and the two burst into raucous laughter. "Just do be sure you know what you're doing… I've seen you handle yourself with a sword, but dueling-"

"You all seem to forget I am a  _noble_. I was taught fencing, archery and the fine art of dueling whoever I damn well pleased as a rowdy teenager." Ayre crossed her arms and leaned against the war table, smirking.

The spymaster's brow cocked high, and she regarded the Inquisitor with a curious eye. "With how you carry yourself sometimes, I half expect you to still  _be_ a teenager."

Ayre rolled her eyes, swiping Leliana's figurine from her hands. With a nasally attempt at an Orlesian accent, she spoke. " _Oh, Tray-vay-leon! What a backwater house of nobles, no? How can zey ever compare to ze loveliness that is ze Nightingale of ze Imperial Court, hon hon hon."_

Leliana's gaze earned a hard edge, and the two stared each other down. It was clear Ayre was struggling not to laugh; Her lips twitching and a misty quality reaching her eyes. The spymaster slapped the figurine out of the Inquisitor's hands, making the doll land on the table.

" _That_ … is exactly the sort of thing I meant. Yes, it was funny; Actually, downright hilarious. If I wasn't trying to make a desperate point, I may laugh to the point of tears, such as you are refraining yourself from doing." Leliana chuckled softly nonetheless, taking the figurine of Ayre. Clearing her throat, her voice took on a rougher edge as she imitated the Inquisitor's accent better than Ayre had done for herself.

" _I've taught myself to fight with every single weapon imaginable, even a mage's staff because I stole it, and yet I can't bring myself to have an ounce of grace when trying to be serious."_ Leliana dropped the figure next to her own, planting a hand on her hip.

"I have grace." Ayre crossed her arms, coat creasing from the movement. She fanned her face discreetly to dry the tears of humor, exhaling deeply before she cleared her throat. "Alright… but, do you know how to duel?"

Leliana cleared her throat politely, glancing towards the doors. Ayre furrowed her brows, staring hard. Was that a stupid question, or was this the spymaster's way of avoiding a negative answer? "I can't tell if you can, or can't…"

"Why don't you ask our resident  _princess_ , hm?" Leliana diverted attention, watching Ayre's interest pique.

"Princess, who- Oh! That's right… Cassandra is an actual princess, isn't she?" The Inquisitor grinned, having forgotten all about the conversation. "Josephine sounded so envious when she told me. ' _She's a princess and she won't_ _ **do anything**_ _about it'_." To Ayre's credit, she didn't try to wrap her tongue around the Antivan accent. She feared she would knot the damned thing…

Leliana giggled heartily, covering her mouth in faint surprise. "Ah, well, that does sound like Josie… Brush up on your dueling,  _Trevelyan_ , and I will arrange the duel's meeting and time."

Ayre grinned, tossing the redhead a wink. "Thank you so much,  _Nightingale_. I'll let you know my progress." Though, it had been a long time since she had fought a noble duel. The last time years ago, and of course over a woman's honor… This wouldn't be so different.

With a flourishing bow, the Inquisitor left Leliana to her fit of giggles.

* * *

Cassandra was surprised to see her usual training area occupied, by the Inquisitor to boot. Ayre was testing out a number of training swords, three on the rack she had brought out. The one in her hands was too burly for a one-handed grip, and she replaced it with a grumble.

"Inquisitor? What are you…" Cassandra neared her, absolutely puzzled. Ayre turned to her, gaining a quirky grin.

"Good morning…  _Princess Pentaghast_."

Cassandra stared in absolute disgust, nose crinkling before she snarled. "Do not address me as such. I only told you that in passing, and that is the end of it." She ordered, taking the sword Ayre picked up.

"Alright, forgive me for teasing you. I had only just remembered, since Leliana reminded me." The Inquisitor gave an apologetic smile, and Cassandra slowly calmed.

"It is fine… Why are you training, here?" The seeker quirked a thin brow, testing the weight of the sword. It was too burly for her as well, but she could wield it if needed.

"It seems that Lady Montilyet has been betrothed… to a man." Ayre began, crossing her arms and watching Cassandra. "I wish to stop this, but to do so… I have to challenge him to a duel. I've done so plenty of times in my youth, but-"

"In your youth? You're still  _in_ your youth." Cassandra gave a throaty chuckle, setting aside the sword. "None of these will do. We need something thinner, lighter."

"I'm not as young as you may think." Ayre argued, but knew the seeker was at least a decade older than her. "Definitely young enough to be seen as such, though, I suppose." She furrowed her brows, shrugging about the swords.

Cassandra shook her head, leading her towards another rack of weapons. From it, she took two thinner swords, tossing one to Ayre. "Let us begin…"

* * *

The duel was on; The setting the heart of Val Royeaux and its merchants. Her palms were already sweating inside of thin gloves, but it seemed her worries were for naught. This Otranto didn't even seem to be here…

Stepping in front of the large fountain, Ayre quirked a brow when music began to play loudly around her. She spotted a few musicians, their instruments being played in perfect harmony. The tune was… confrontational at best.

"What in the-" Turning, Ayre found herself only twenty paces away from a man. He wore a fine outfit of dark teal and leather, raising a hand to his chest.

"I am Lord Otranto of Antiva, rightfully betrothed of Lady Josephine Montilyet." He spoke, giving the Inquisitor the faintest of bows. He turned to take two rapiers from his assistants - or perhaps they were his guards?

Ayre watched him carefully, taking note that the city's bustling populace had stopped to watch them curiously.

"Songs of your exploits have spread to my city, Inquisitor. It's humbling to make your acquaintance." His accent was suave, but his charm was all but lost on Ayre. She saw him as only a target.

Otranto tossed a rapier to her, and thanks to Cassandra's tutelage, she caught it without hesitation. Pretending to admire the craftsmanship, Ayre tested the weight in her palm.

She glanced back up to her fellow noble, Otranto raising his rapier so the tip pointed to her, and initiated the face-off. As they circled each other, the man rose his sword up higher, steel cutting the wind. "It is a pity it will not last longer." He spoke, a smirk on his lips.

"Before we duel, I trust you find the weapon to your satisfaction?"

This would be a splendid weapon, but…

"Am I not to use my own? Or surely, you don't want a hooked dagger to scar your pretty face?" Ayre spoke, keeping her ground even as a step from Otranto was gained. The man chuckled, finding her question amusing.

"I am the wounded party in this duel; Tradition dictates that I select our weapons." His smirk only grew, and Ayre felt distrust deep in her gut. No, he wouldn't have sabotaged her rapier… Not when all of Val Royeaux watched.

"Of course… If you feel you might be clumsy with such a refined instrument, there is no shame in a forfeit."

Ayre scowled, her pride taking a faint hit. She had walked into that one… "Not on your life." She declared, hearing the crowd give a low breath.

"Then let us begin." Otranto cut the air with his rapier, using quickly motions of his wrist to flick it expertly. He took the first move, a lunge that Ayre perfectly parried; Her sword pushing his own aside.

"Is this to first blood, or to death?" Ayre asked, gaining a raucous laugh from the man.

"You could not even dream of gaining a cut from me." He chuckled, meeting her parries with strike after strike. Their rapiers sung each time they met, metal against metal causing sparks.

"An admiral start, Inquisitor." Otranto commended, his strikes becoming more aggressive. Ayre felt frustration in herself; She had taken the defense of this duel, and she was becoming impatient.

"Perhaps House Trevelyan isn't the obscure backwater I've heard it to be?" Otranto was trying to goad her, and Maker help her, it worked. He lowered his stance and lunged again, Ayre deftly shoving his rapier aside to score a hit to his chest with her shoulder.

Shoved back, he eyed her with consideration.

"Do  _not_ mention my familial name." Ayre spat, the fresh hurt still stinging. Her family was dead, after all. She had Calpernia to blame for that, but for now…

Otranto gave a faint nod of understanding, and for that, she may even have thanked him. His lunges became more aggressive, and the Inquisitor had to step back to avoid a horizontal swipe.

"I'm glad Lady Montilyet isn't here, exquisite as I've heard her appearance to be." The man smirked, tapping the point of his rapier against hers. A tease? She should have asked for pointers on reading people…

He swiped her rapier to the side, holding his own threateningly parallel to the stone beneath them; Advancing and keeping his sword in place even as she tried to push it away as she stepped back. The crowd was ever growing, but all spectators were silent as the grave to not interrupt.

Otranto took a lunge, and Ayre met him; Rapier's singing with a hiss as they met in the middle, against each other and pressed to stay. Ayre glared at him through the cross their weapons made, Otranto seeming only too amused.

"Cutting you down in front of Josephine would have given a poor first impression of House Otranto to my bride." His face was far too smug for her liking…

Ayre pushed her blade strongly against his, though he held his ground. "Strange… I would think the Otrantos already have enough blood on their hands after cheating the Terrazas." She stage-whispered to him, loud enough for some of the crowd to hear.

His brows furrowed, genuine anger able to be seen. "Who told you-?!" The two nobles pushed away from each other, Ayre smirking to herself.

"You dare to bring up that slander here?" He growled, giving a vicious slash of his rapier. Ayre parried perfectly, noting his fanciful skill waning as his anger grew.

Seeing her chance, she parried and immediately riposted; Tip of her rapier catching his shoulder. It cut through his sleeve like butter, and blood was spilled. Proud of herself, the Inquisitor eyed him with amusement as the crowd gave a collective gasp.

"Inquisitor, I will personally-" Otranto spat, only to be interrupted.

" _Stop!_ " That sounded like Josephine…?

The two dueling nobles dumbly glanced to where the voice had come from, rapiers held aloft still. From between two men, Josephine shoved herself forward with an incredulous look on her face.

"Josephine!" Ayre felt slightly embarrassed, sun-kissed skin darkening. The Antivan woman glared at her, stalking forward in a stride not so polite.

"Lady Montilyet, what a pleasure to-" Seeing he was being ignored, Otranto let the heated woman pass by him.

"What are you  _doing_?" Josephine asked, jabbing a finger into Ayre's face. Her voice sounded both concerned and angered.

Ayre had  _never_  seen Josephine angry, except for the instance of Leliana hiding that letter. She felt her heart sink, but maybe if she explained herself…?

"Josephine, I  _can't_ take the chance that you might have to marry him!" The Inquisitor spoke, suddenly feeling foolish. Perhaps this had been the wrong route to take?

"That's not  _your_ decision!" Josephine exclaimed, stepping back. Ayre's heart caught in her throat in fear, the fragile situation only escalating.

Josephine turned away, her angered voice rising. "The Inquisition needs you;  _I_ need you, yet you throw yourself into danger!" She whirled around to face Ayre, the younger woman holding her position through sheer willpower.

"Why do this? Why risk everything we've built; Why risk  _your life_?!"

Ayre swallowed harshly, grip tightening on the hilt of the rapier. She had been sure of herself days ago, and she was sure now. "Because I  _love_ you!" She proclaimed, stepping towards the Antivan woman.

All anger fled from Josephine's visage, instead, pure shock filtered in. "You… you do?" She almost whispered, gazing adoringly into fade-touched viridian.

"She does?!" Otranto barked, surprised as well.

Ayre ignored him, heart pounding in her chest. She took another step, tossing her blood-stained rapier to the ground. "I mean it… Every word."

Josephine's shock faded, leaving her with desire sparking in her eyes. "I love you too." She looked about to cry, and ran into Ayre's arms.

Relieved, and shocked that Josephine wasn't about to scold her, the Inquisitor picked the older woman up into her arms and happily swung her. Setting Josephine back on her feet, Ayre was pulled into a passionate kiss. A little surprised, she hungrily returned it.

Otranto's musicians turned the confrontational music into something to better fit the romantic scene, and he glared at them only minutely.

Separating, Ayre drew Josephine into a warm embrace; Nose burying itself against the older woman's throat. Maker, she smelled so good…

The crowd began to disperse, already spreading gossip of how brave the Inquisitor was; Was she a good kisser? No doubt about it!

The singing of metal caught their attention, Josephine pulling away first as if to protect Ayre. The redhead grinned, a hand at the small of the elder's back.

Otranto only braced his rapier to his chest, bowing slightly. "Well-fought…"

"Lord Otranto-" Josephine flushed, having apparently forgot where they were.

The noble man shook his head, chuckling. "I'd assumed your liaison with the Inquisitor was an affair of passion or convenience, Lady Montilyet."

Ayre caught Josephine's eyes, giving her a shy grin.

Otranto sheathed his rapier, seeming amused. "But I'm not fool enough to stand in the way of true affection. The Otrantos regretfully withdraw the terms of our betrothal."

Bowing her head gratefully, Josephine smiled. "Thank you…"

"Do not thank me… I know when I'm outmatched." He gripped his shoulder, amusement instead of anger in his gaze as he looked to Ayre. The Inquisitor bowed her head, hands shaking from the duel and her  _very_ public confession.

Turning to face the ambassador, the redhead's cheeks were absolutely dark with ruddy bashfulness. "Josephine… I've never been happier in my life." She whispered, taking the Antivan woman's hands.

"We're tempting fate with such talk… but neither have I." Josephine bowed her head, just as shy as the Inquisitor. "Just… do kiss me again." She smiled, Ayre grinning as she obeyed. They kissed well into the sunset, the people of Val Royeaux passing by abuzz with gossip.

Ayre had no doubt that when they returned to Skyhold, she may have to deal with marriage proclamations from the Montilyet's… But she definitely didn't mind.

* * *

**AN: Our daring hero has fought and won! Ayre and Josephine's relationship is sure to blossom, but do you wonder what would happen if perhaps the duel hadn't gone so fortunately? In case I have piqued your interest... Be on the lookout for Reversed Hierophant!**


	10. Crystal Overture

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Crystal Overture**

* * *

"We've sent scouts to Emprise du Lion, there will be a heavy resistance." Leliana coddled a crow, stroking along the back of its head. The war table was utterly littered with different operations, not to mention the small figurines.

Ayre was toying with hers, her free hand reaching for Josephine's when Leliana cleared her throat. "Oh, yes… Emprise du Lion." The Inquisitor garbled up the pronunciation, causing the ambassador to stutter a laugh.

"...Empry du Lyon…?" Ayre tried again, flushing darkly as Josephine's amusement only grew.

"It's pronounced as Empr-eeze do Leon." Leliana gently helped her, giving Josephine a small look. The ambassador quickly regained her composure, flushing as dark as Ayre.

"Forgive me, my love." Josephine touched against the center of her back, and the Inquisitor stopped sulking.

"Emprise du Lion?" Ayre tried again, getting encouraging smiles. "Excellent." The redhead steepled her fingers, eyeing the landscape of the map. "The climate will be-"

"Utterly freezing." Josephine gave a shudder just thinking of it. "It is steeped with snow." She traced the design of the table with her finger, sighing softly.

"Red Templars have taken hold of the hills; People go missing and it's not like whoever is left can contend them." Leliana spoke, moving her agents into place.

Ayre frowned, gazing down. "That means red lyrium… We'll be sure to destroy any clusters we come across." The Inquisitor nodded to herself, looking to Cullen when he approached.

"Unfortunately, the templars aren't the only things you'll need to worry about, Inquisitor. There are three high dragons that are threatening to make the whole of Emprise du Lion their breeding ground." Cullen gave a scowl, marking the areas. "They may even be a worse threat than the templars."

"For you to say that, they must be dreadful." Ayre grimaced, rubbing her hands together. "Not to sound coarse, but is there a way to avoid the dragons while we take out the templars? I can always swing around to them…"

"They may sweep overhead, but unless you intrude their stomping grounds, you'll be fine." Cullen nodded, making sure to point out the areas once more. Ayre tried to imagine the map as terrain around her, nodding slowly to herself.

"Upon your return, you'll have another few dancing lessons, so be sure not to over-exert yourself." Leliana spoke, though was mostly teasing. The dance lessons would continue even if the Inquisitor was down a leg, no doubt.

Ayre curled her top lip, clearing her throat. "Perhaps we will be in Emprise du Lion for  _quite_  some time, then." She jested, getting a small pinch from Josephine. "Ah- Just kidding…"

"Dancing…" Cullen gave a grimace, and Leliana abruptly turned on him.

"Don't think we don't know you can dance. You're helping." The spymaster smirked, listening to the ex-templar grumble.

Ayre grinned, leaning towards Josephine while the other two were distracted. "Meet me in the garden before I leave?"

"You wouldn't dare leave without my goodbye." Josephine smiled, touching along the redhead's back again.

"You two, please don't get distracted."

"Never." Ayre lied, grinning as she folded her arms. Though, she was sure she  _would_ stay away from Skyhold until the dragons were dead. Dragons before dance lessons, always.

* * *

"Oh, breathe in that air! Mm… So fresh…" The Iron Bull inhaled deeply as they trudged through the snow, exhaling noisily as well. Cassandra gave him a glance, a thick cloak and scarf around her shoulders.

"Haven was colder." Ayre smirked, though her tunic beneath her coat had thick sleeves. The burly qunari barked with laughter, slapping her back.

"Not all of us were trapped in the heart of an avalanche, boss." He covered his good eye to wink at her, something that always made Ayre snicker.

"True." She chuckled, glancing behind the other two. "Dorian? Necromancer man, are you still alive?"

"No thanks to you!" Dorian was struggling just ever so faintly through the snow. He had piled on his robes, no bare skin showing other than his fingers and face. Ayre seemed thoroughly amused, waiting for him to catch up.

"As flattered as I am, I don't control the weather." The redhead dryly commented, the seeker at her side giving a snort.

"What we wouldn't give for that power." Dorian lamented, the four of them entering upon the camp. The agents looked rather cold, but snapped to attention once they noticed.

"Where are your mounts?" Scout Harding exited a tent, cocking a brow to the party. Ayre seemed sheepish, and the dwarf sized her up for a good story.

"Well, my Dracolisk wouldn't do well in the cold and Cassandra wouldn't take her horse if I had to walk. Then after a comment from Bull about two girls on one horse, she banned mounts for this trip."

"I… see?" Lace still seemed confused, but chuckled. "The morale of the place is rock bottom; So many dead or missing… There's barely any food to speak of."

Ayre frowned, seriousness returning to her. "We're here to firstly wipe out the templars. If we find any of the missing people… I don't have high hopes for them." The Inquisitor sighed, shaking her head.

"Tell everyone to do what they can to keep everyone comfortable." Ayre eventually decided, gaining a nod from Lace.

Turning to her party, the Inquisitor gained a pensive look. "Pavus? Did you know your family is distantly related to mine?" Ayre cocked a brow, enjoying the mage's look of suspended disbelief.

"I did not. How did  _you_ find this out?" He adjusted his cowl, tucking his scarf further against his throat.

"Leliana. She's been… doing some digging into my family tree. I am unsure how many of you know this, but-" Glancing to Cassandra, Ayre felt the seeker take her sleeve gently. "Calpernia and her Venatori rats massacred my family."

"Oh, that  _little_ _ **bitch**_." Bull growled, crossing his thick arms. Dorian scowled tight, taking a slow breath.

"I'm very sorry. When was the last time you saw them?" He stepped closer, also taking her sleeve. Ayre furrowed her brows, unable to recall the time.

"I'm… unsure. It had to have been before the Conclave. The last time I saw my sister was her tenth birthday, which couldn't have been very long ago." Ayre sighed bitterly, eyes to the trodden snow at their feet. Her veins felt as cold as the ground looked…

"Well, we're going to kill every last Venatori we see, right boss?" Bull smashed a fist into his opposite hand, grinning to her. Ayre chuckled, nodding to him as the other two released her sleeves.

"You're damned right about that. My dream is to have Calpernia at my feet; Her pleas for life ignored and tongue eventually cut out." Ayre turned from them, starting to walk down the snowy path. "I think I may burn her at the stake like the little witch she is… Not witch as in magic, Dorian, but witch as in the nasty festering chasm she calls a soul."

Cassandra gave a tittering laugh that was quickly cut off, and she cleared her throat. "Perhaps the Trevelyan motto doesn't quite suit you? ' _Modest in temper, bold in deed'._ " The seeker smirked faintly, highly approving of the decision.

"That  _was_  my temper being modest." Ayre teased back, glancing to Dorian. The mage chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

"No offense taken, my redheaded love. She is quite the witch, though I would think the word to call her is  _bitch_." Dorian grinned, feeling Bull smack his back in laughter.

"That's the spirit, boss. Maybe we can even roast some meat on her." The burly qunari smirked, though most mirth was lost upon seeing the desolate state of the people.

The buildings were varying in decay and destruction; Bodies wrapped in cloth and linen, left in the snow with nowhere to bury them. Ayre grimaced as she took it all in, careful where she stepped.

"-with the other little ingredients, it makes a hearty meal. Come back for dinner, dear." An elderly woman spoke to a young man as he exited from her doorway, spotting the party.

"Mistress Poulin, I assume?" Ayre took her invitation inside, though it did little help to chase the cold away.

"Inquisitor, I am so grateful that you have come here." The woman gave a tired smile. "Sahrnia would welcome you, if it was in a better state."

"I've heard." The redhead smiled apologetically, glancing out of the doorway. The Iron Bull side-stepped to act as the door, giving her a smirk.

"How did these templars secure the land?" Ayre asked, quirking a brow when Poulin sighed sadly.

"I sold them the quarries."

"You… willingly gave them the power to do this?" Cassandra asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and anger. Ayre leaned towards her, brows furrowing but expression open.

"At first, they appeared to be good men; Chevaliers! They proposed they would revive the quarries, bring fresh life to Sahrnia. The workers were paid and came back… Then, they started taking more and more people. The workers stopped coming home, and the templars stopped pretending." The elderly woman sighed, cupping her brow.

"...We will deal with this matter at a later time." Ayre spoke softly, bracing the woman with a hand to her shoulder.

"You are too kind, Inquisitor. I only ask that you wipe out this red plague." Poulin frowned, bowing her head to the younger woman.

"Funny, that might be my new name." Ayre chuckled to herself, clearing her throat. "We won't take a boot out of this snow until all of the red templars are dead." She promised, turning to leave.

Iron Bull slipped from acting as the door, waiting until Ayre had exited to follow. A few of the townspeople were left, and it seemed the Inquisitor wished to speak to them.

Lifting a hand to stop an older woman, Ayre's brows furrowed when she was bypassed.

" _Oh, you silly girl. You lost the ring, how could you lose Mama's ring?"_ The old woman sighed to herself, ignoring them all. Cassandra adopted a concerned expression, no doubt thinking of darker things.

"She must be in some sort of shock." Ayre murmured, gaining her team's attention. "If we find her ring, we'll bring it back." She promised, leading them from the ruined buildings.

"Where's our first strike landing?" Bull looked around, his good eye narrowing. Something was on the wind… He could smell it.

"Sahrnia quarry; That's where the heart of the operation is. If we can find the workers they took, maybe we can be pointed to other locations." Ayre seemed to notice something as well, stopping to glance around.

"Cullen  _did_ say that there are three dragons trying to… breed." The Inquisitor felt uneasy, but it quickly passed. "Maybe one flew over."

"Ah, I'd love to see one." Bull grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Like the one that bit you? That was  _fantastic_."

"It wasn't fantastic to be poisoned." Ayre snorted, but stopped herself. "Wait, no… Josephine told be it was  _venom_. Not… poisoned. But does that mean  _I_ became venomous or was I poisoned by the venom…?"

Bull stared at her, cocking his head. "Uh… Sure, boss." He shrugged, chuckling lowly.

Cassandra gave a snort, shaking her head. "Dragons are venomous because of their saliva; It breeds bacteria. How I didn't catch that at the time, I don't know." The seeker crossed her arms, right hand on the hilt of her mace.

"Poison, venom… what's the difference to someone afflicted, hm?" Dorian chuckled, the four of them starting off on their path once more. The trees were all stripped bare of bark, the wind sharp against their skin.

"I wonder if this snow and cold is… natural." Ayre hummed as she looked around, suddenly stopping. "Shit. Bull, Dorian, get behind this boulder." She ordered quietly, stepping behind a tree. Cassandra knelt by her, the other two obeying quickly.

"Red templars straight ahead… Quarry is absolutely thick with them." The Inquisitor warned, leaning to peek from behind the snow-razed tree.

The quarry had fortifications that would have no doubt held back a lesser invasion. "Cheap wood, no walls… We can take 'em, boss." Bull grinned, peeking over the boulder.

"We always can." Ayre chuckled lowly, the accent of her words seeming sharp. Hers wasn't as lilting as Leliana's nor strong as Cassandra's; More… light, carefree such as her attitude. Shaking her head to rid herself of the idle thought, the redhead slipped the hood of her cloak on.

"Try and be as discreet as you can. Cassandra, defend Dorian. I'll go in and take down who I can, follow me on three heartbeats." Looking to them to get their nods, Ayre released a small vial from her belt and smashed it under a boot.

Cassandra was always unnerved when she witnessed this; One moment the Inquisitor was there, and next she was… invisible? Cloaked, or simply camouflaged by the world around them?

Though, the other noble hadn't indulged in her skills flamboyantly. Truly, if Cassandra hadn't have known how she fought, she would have thought the Inquisitor a warrior.

Slipping through the weak fortification, Ayre scanned the area. A few templars, and marksman… Nothing like the horrors they've seen before. It wouldn't be so bad, then. Unsheathing her twin blades, the Inquisitor leapt and impaled a templar in the cusps where shoulders met neck. Her cloaking fell away, her attack rendering the man useless for little more than struggling to pick up a cup.

The Iron Bull charged through, knocking another two onto their backs. Cassandra helped Dorian atop a scaffolding, the man taking care of the marksman with ease.

"Perfectly executed." Ayre grinned, her boot on the nape of her injured target's neck. She put more pressure down and twisted her stance; A sickly snap echoing with the snowy wind.

"Pun, boss?" Bull grinned to her, swinging his skull-topped club back to hang on his harness.

"Perhaps." Ayre gave a teasing smirk, glancing around. "Be on your guard; I doubt these were the best they have to offer."

"No abominations seen just yet." Cassandra agreed, the seeker raising her shield to a cry.

"P-please! Break the locks, we're freezing!"

Cocking her brow, Ayre noticed a barred cart and rushed over. "Oh! The workers…" Kneeling into the frigid snow, she picked the burly lock and wrenched it off. "Hurry back to Sahrnia, you'll be warm and fed."

"Andraste bless you… There's more, we don't know where." One of the men imparted before joining the others running off.

"If they're still alive after all this time, there's still hope." Ayre spoke, nodding to Bull. Heaving the barred cart onto its side, he grinned.

"Could use this as a sled later." He toyed with the wheels. "After ripping these off."

Ayre paused, seemingly giving this consideration before shaking her head. "Later…" She grinned, the four of them setting off into the snow again.

* * *

"Alright… starting to hate the snow." Picking herself up from being knocked to the ground, Ayre, held her head for a moment. One of the behemoth's had just barely missed crushing her beneath its club, but it had walloped her good.

With it finally down, she was struggling to fully sit up. Her head was pounding; Had she struck it on the stone wall at her back, or upon the ground? Both were as hard as could be; The snow was frozen here.

"Boss, you alright? I didn't know flying was a human trait." Bull smirked, though was obviously concerned. Dorian was at her side in a moment, Cassandra joining to turn her back. She knelt, bracing her shield in front of her to act as a wall. They couldn't be caught off-guard if others were lingering.

"My head is killing me." Ayre grimaced, feeling Dorian gently pressed his palms along her ribs. No doubt he was checking for other injuries first…

"I don't see any blood." Bull pointed out, kneeling so he didn't block out the sun.

"Might have just smacked it." Pulling back, Dorian eased one of the bottles from his coat. "Here, can you drink this?"

"Maybe." Ayre's eyes were closed, the pain sharp as if there was a dagger's point in her skull. The uncorked bottle was guided into her gloved hand, and gently lead to her lips. Drinking it, the Inquisitor was delighted with the fruity taste of it; Eyes opening in surprise to the pleasant taste.

"Well, that was actually delicious… What was it?" She asked, though the headache lingered. It lessened, but felt more shelved to the back. She had little doubt it would come to the forefront later…

"Mm… Better that you don't know." Dorian chuckled, helping her sit up fully. "Let me check your head."

Ayre closed her eyes and leaned forward, feeling the mage's light fingers flitting through her hair. "No wetness, other than snow… Doesn't look like you've been cut."

"Behemoth must have just batted me good." Ayre chuckled, Bull helping her stand. Cassandra turned to her, lowering her shield to relax as she hooked it to her back once more.

"Keep more of whatever that potion is on hand, and I think I'll be able to work through it." Ayre held the back of her head for a moment before relaxing.

"There's plenty more where that came from…  _Cousin_." Dorian grinned, finding the word pleasantly forthcoming.

Ayre blinked before she chuckled. "I had actually forgotten I told you." She admitted, smoothing her hair down. Her clasp had come out from the hit, and Cassandra picked it up from the snow.

Cradling it between her gloved hands, the seeker rubbed and blew warm breath to warm the silver up. She offered it over, a smile of thanks given in return.

Putting her hair into the clasped hold, Ayre straightened herself out. "Alright…" She was a bit wobbly on her first steps but braced herself. Releasing the final set of workers, she leaned against the barred cart for a moment's rest.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Cassandra neared her side, glancing around. Ayre grimaced, raising her hand for her temple.

"I don't think this ache is going to go away for some time… But, at least we've wiped out the templars here." The Inquisitor sighed, yelping when she was picked up.

Bull grinned, placing her atop his shoulders. "What better time for a sled than now?" He grinned, Cassandra even smirked as she held him put the cart on its side.

The wheels were broken off, and the barred cart was righted once more. Dorian eyed it, humming as he glanced the direction opposite of the cart. "You know, if we aim it just right, we could slide all the way back to Sahrnia…"

"Sounds like a plan to me." Bull grinned, setting Ayre down as he piled into the cart. "I'll sit in the middle. Don't want us going too fast…"

Ayre chuckled, glancing to Cassandra. "You're actually on board for this?" She quirked a brow, the seeker shrugging with a grin.

"Why not? Walking back would take hours, and no doubt hurt you further. If we can all pile in a fit, why not?" Cassandra sat in front of Bull and to the side, making Ayre snicker.

"Alright… sounds like a plan. I can see it now… The Inquisition, sledding to victory!" Ayre grinned, sitting beside Cassandra. Dorian slipped in behind Bull, at his side more so to gauge their direction.

"Ready?" Bull grinned, slipping his arms through the bars at the side. He dug his fingers against the ground, winding them back. Ayre grasped the door and closed it, securing it with a lock from her coat.

"As best as I think we can be." She quipped, holding onto the bars of the door. Cassandra grasped her sleeve, and Ayre grinned as Bull gave a count.

"One-  **Go!** " Bull shoved them forward, tucking his arms in. The cart made an excellent sled for what it was; Thankfully it wasn't recklessly fast either.

"Oh… this is far more pleasant than I pictured." Cassandra seemed to relax, Dorian being careful to steer with the bottom of this staff.

"Agreed." Ayre relaxed, keeping her hold on the door. Emprise du Lion was actually beautiful… When you weren't trudging the snow nor slaughtering madmen.

The snow had begun to fall again, dusting the tops of their heads as the cart slid on. "This is actually peaceful." Ayre relaxed fully, watching the scenery as they zipped by.

Soon enough, they slid to a stop just outside of Sahrnia. "That was a blast." Ayre grinned, though her head ached a bit more. Bull just seemed surprised that his idea had worked.

"Hah! I totally thought we'd hit the side of a mountain." He grinned, the four of them exiting the cart. Dorian chuckled, dusting himself off and inspecting his staff's end. It was a little scuffed but nothing that couldn't be fixed.

Cassandra chuckled, carefully dusting snow from her hair. "In my younger years, I might have used a shield as a sled." She imparted, leading the way back into the town. Ayre and the other two shared a smirk, following after her.

Of course, there was still the matter of Mistress Poulin. The papers they had found… Ayre scowled, passing Cassandra on the way into Sahrnia. "Bull, Dorian, keep the people from her building." She ordered, taking Cassandra's wrist to lead her in.

The elderly woman was tending to a stew when they entered. She paused in her stirring, waiting for the inevitable outburst.

"You knew what they were doing." Ayre accused softly, stepping further into the hovel. Cassandra crossed her arms, all sense of amusement gone.

"I did." Poulin turned, hands clasped in front of herself. "If I hadn't sold them the quarry, they would have taken it either way, along with  _all_ of the townspeople. This way, I could use the coin given to sustain those left behind."

Ayre stared, slowly starting towards the elder woman. "That was a terrible decision to make. I expect to find you at Skyhold for judgement within the week. If not, we will hunt you down. Not a word of this to anyone." The Inquisitor cocked a brow, and the elderly woman nodded solemnly.

"Inquisition, we march." Ayre still thought that was an odd departing line; It was just the four of them. Stepping from the building, the Inquisitor remembered something in her pocket.

"Hold a moment…" Returning to the elder woman by the fire, Ayre presented a ring. "Here… I found your mother's ring." The snow-haired woman seemed absolutely elighted, shaking from her reverie.

"Andraste bless you, sweet girl."

Ayre flushed, chuckling as she gave the ring back. "Keep warm." She advised, returning to her party. "We can deal with the dragons some other time. My head is really starting to kill me."

Dorian gave the bottle up again, patting her back as she drank. "Come now, dear, let's start off back to Skyhold, hm? Perhaps we can even borrow the agent's horses…"

"Walking all the way back doesn't seem advisable." Cassandra agreed, bracing at Ayre's side. This time, even with the potion's effects, her head throbbed still.

"Perhaps we should stay here for the night, send out a letter?" Ayre suggested, sitting hard once the agent's camp was in sight.

"Inquisitor?" Cassandra knelt by her, but red swam in her vision.

"I just… need to rest."

"I'll get a letter to Sister Leliana." Lace eyed her, not liking the state she was in. "Lay the Inquisitor in her tent, we'll find a healer."

Dorian watched Ayre carefully, unsure of what it could be. The proximity to the red lyrium? But they had all been near it! Perhaps he hadn't checked her head well enough…

At any rate, they would need to wait; For the letter's return and for a healer. Dorian was sure that the Inquisitor would never let a place such as Emprise du Lion be her grave.

* * *

**AN: Another chapter down! RH will be uploaded in a few hours as well, so I hope you all enjoy!**


	11. Falsehoods

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Falsehoods**

* * *

Murmurs and whispers were around her, yet Ayre knew not if they were real. She wasn't quite asleep or awake; Stuck in a paralyzing limbo between the two. She willed her eyes to open and they disobeyed. Her arms were taken hold of, as if someone were trying to stand her up. They failed, and she was gingerly laid down again.

" _-happened to her? Did her head-?"_ Cassandra's voice, brittle with concern. How far their friendship had come from the seeker threatening to slit her throat ear to ear over the Conclave.

" _No, there's something-"_ Pain blossomed behind her eyes and was given voice; A roar deaf to herself yet startling all.

Her eyes finally opened, and she was awake. On her back, Ayre gazed up. Dorian and Cassandra were staring down at her, the tent over the three of them. The mage looked absolutely baffled, and the seeker drew her sword.

"Inquisitor, don't speak." She spoke, kneeling down as if she were a demon. Ayre obeyed, concern behind fade-touched eyes. Cassandra examined her, lips pulling down into a scowl as she surveyed her.

"There is… an edge in your voice."

" _ **An edge?"**_ Ayre spoke, startling herself into sitting up. There was an echo of her voice just moments behind the words, as if a separate entity was within her.

Her head protested the sudden elevation, and she carefully rested back. What in Thedas was that?

Cassandra's scowl was deeper, but she sheathed her sword. Dorian's fingers gently parted the thick hair at Ayre's left temple, exposing two thin scratches. They glowed with red lyirum, no doubt from the Behemoth's strike.

"Shit." Dorian spat, pulling his hands away as if they were stained. He gave an apologetic glance to Ayre, turning his gaze to Cassandra. "It's in her head, however little. It will grow unless we do something. Can't you-?"

"Not without killing her, I'm very certain." Cassandra's voice had a hardened tone, though nothing like the demonic echo of the Inquisitor's. Lifting a hand to her head, Ayre could feel it pulse.

It hurt, but maybe she could control it? She had control of the Anchor, after all. She tried to sit up, but that was still far too much.

"We need to get her back to Skyhold… Leliana, or even  _Varric_  may know what to do better than I." Cassandra seemed dual preoccupied; Her concern for Ayre outweighing her spite towards the dwarf.

"She can't even sit up, how can we possibly get her back?"

"Hey guys, I found the sled." The joy-filled voice was so out of place, Ayre snorted and held her head. The Iron Bull poked his head in, grinning. "We'll have to hurry if we want to get there quickly…"

"No horse would be able to pull all of us on that thing." Dorian tried to argue, but the qunari only smirked.

"Who said anything about a horse?"

* * *

At least no one could say that Skyhold wasn't without its quirks. However, a qunari impersonating a courier horse and dragging a very worn 'sled' was new. "Oof. That was a workout." Bull gently lowered the thing to the ground, iron bars rattling.

The guards at the gate eyed each other, very confused. The bark of the seeker thoroughly pulled them out. "Get a healer!" Cassandra ordered, gently laying a hand upon Ayre's brow.

The Inquisitor didn't seem worse for ware, until they tried to stand her up. She protested only with a set jaw, teeth gritting hard. Her head pulsed, and she hadn't said a word all through the trip.

Once on her feet, the weakness suddenly fled. Ayre stood with Cassandra bracing her side, the gates of Skyhold opening. "Is everyone-?" A woman exited, looking quite befuddled. From her robes, she was a mage… Could she feel the pulse too?

Ayre felt a flicker of fear rise, and she shifted to hide behind the seeker instead. Cassandra glowered, and the healer cleared her throat. "Ah, forgive me. Come, let us… attend."

A crow sang overhead, the shrill noise irritating the Inquisitor. Ayre whipped her hand out, and grasped the bird by its throat. Dorian stared, utterly concerned by the woman's well-being.

Realizing what she had done Ayre quickly set the crow down. It was a little worse off than it had been; Little feet stumbling before it gave a hoarse squawk of indignation. It flew off again, up towards the rookery. A shimmer of blue was noted in the window before it was gone.

Now Leliana would be on her way…

The Inquisitor grasped Cassandra's arm tight as they strode in, lips against the seeker's ear. She whispered, but the echo remained. " _ **Josephine?"**_ She felt the older woman stiffen at her side, no doubt trying to remain impassive to her voice.

"I will keep her away, however hard that may be."

"Nonsense. I got this." Bull grinned, covering his good eye to make Ayre snicker. She covered her mouth instead, not sure how that would sound. He strode off towards the grand hall, leaving them with the surgeons and merchants down below.

Ayre grimaced, unsure of how many should be aware of her current condition. She shook her head, tugging Cassandra towards the steps.

"To your quarters?" The older woman began to escort her there, giving glares to anyone who watched. "Can you make it up the stairs?"

The Inquisitor wasn't even sure how she was standing. Ayre gave a slight nod, trying to pass her grip on Cassandra off as friendly flirting. No one seemed to give a second glance, except for the templars.

Could they sense it? Ayre swallowed thickly, ignoring them as they made way into the grand hall. Varric was sure to be close, right?

"Seeker, if you glare any harder, you'll be turning things to stone." His teasing tone ceased once met with their glances. "Alright… I'll bite. What's wrong?"

Cassandra glanced to Ayre, then back to the dwarf. "Come with us to the Inquisitor's quarters- none of your stupid jokes." She glared once seeing the smirk, and Varric shrugged.

"Suit yourself, it was a good one." He followed after them, noting Bull blocking the door of Josephine's office.

" _Is the Inquisitor back, then?"_ Ayre heard the Antivan accent and rushed towards her quarters, fumbling with the door. Varric cocked a brow, keeping his silence until they arrived.

"Inquisitor. Do you make it a point to harass my birds?" Leliana was perched atop the generous bed, caressing the still ruffled feathers of that crow. Ayre glared at it, checking to make sure they were alone before closing the doors to her balcony.

"Leliana…" Cassandra wasn't quite sure how to explain it.

"Hey, if red joins us, it'll cost you." Varric teased, and the seeker huffed in annoyance.

" _ **Quiet."**_ Ayre's voice startled them all, even as Cassandra tried to look stoic. Varric's mouth fell open, his eyes narrowing.

Leliana let her crow go, shooing it out a window in the alcove above. "What is the meaning of this?" She asked, a hand behind her back. Ayre was sure a dagger was hidden, and she slipped back into place behind Cassandra.

"You touched red lyrium, Inquisitor?" Varric accused, watching the redhead frown tightly.

"A behemoth struck her, she has… minimal scratches." Cassandra was unsure of how to put it, exactly.

Leliana seemed to calm down enough to hide her dagger, approaching. "Let us see." She ordered, grasping Ayre to sit her on the couch. The Inquisitor fidgeted nervously, closing her eyes in pain when Cassandra brushed her hair back.

Since it was such a miniscule amount, it had yet to start growing. The thin scratches had widened just so, enough for the seeker to notice. "The… wound has progressed, a centimeter?" Even she couldn't be sure.

" _ **It hurts."**_ Her voice caused Leliana to scowl deeply, trying to shake off the feeling. It reminded her of blighted creatures; No doubt because red lyrium contained the blight itself.

"No shit." Varric huffed, trying to get a closer look without decreasing the distance between them. "It's evil…"

"At first, she could not even lift her head nor sit up. Now, she can stand-"

"And gets angry easily, I think." Leliana interrupted the seeker, eyes surveying Ayre.

"It could definitely affect her mood, it's eating into her brain!" Varric exclaimed, getting a glare from the Inquisitor. "I mean, I'm sure we can… figure some way to have you not die a horrible painful death… Or become a statue."

" _ **Because being a statue is much better."**_ Ayre's echoing voice betrayed her dry wit, and only served to make the other three shudder.

"What… exactly can be done?" Leliana chose her words carefully, looking to Cassandra. The seeker scowled, not knowing.

"Some have been fed red lyrium, little by little." She murmured, unease creasing her brow. "This isn't as dangerous, nor as fast spreading. We have time to think of a way to cure this, but not as much as we may need."

Leliana crossed her arms tightly, lips pursed. "I will try and contact Parthena. She may have an idea." With a nod, she descended the stairs and left the room. Varric simply shrugged, making a wide turn to avoid Ayre before leaving as well.

" _ **Prick."**_ Ayre grumbled, making Cassandra snort. The older woman gently brushed her hair back again, eyeing the wound. The lyrium within pulsed; Glowing only faintly and easily hidden by crimson locks.

"I cannot imagine how that must feel." Cassandra sat by her side, turning to face her. Ayre grinned, though red danced in the outer edges of her vision. She closed her eyes, sighing with dual voices.

" _ **If this doesn't renew my headache, my voice will."**_ She grumbled softly, hearing steps up from her door. Cassandra stood, hurriedly making her way towards the stairs.

"Oh, Lady Montilyet-" She blurted, far too loud suddenly. Ayre gave her a look of surprise, making hand motions. Unfortunately, Cassandra couldn't keep Josephine at bay; The Antivan quirking a brow to them both once she reached the landing.

"Is the Inquisitor injured?" Josephine tested the waters, but between Cassandra's fast denial and Ayre's hesitance, had her true answer. "How badly?"

Ayre glanced to Cassandra, setting her jaw again. She would  _not_ speak in front of Josephine, no matter how hard that would be. The seeker regained her composure, clearing her throat.

"A lightning spell. She'll be a bit weak on her feet, and her voice is… gone. For now." The seeker glanced quickly to Ayre, receiving a thankful nod. Josephine eyed between them, but most of her disbelief was suspended.

"Ah, well, that explains why The Iron Bull wanted honey."

Ayre stared, trying hard not to furrow her brows in confusion. Instead, she quirked a brow whimsically and shrugged; A look of amusement taking hold.

Cassandra chuckled, taking her leave. "Somehow, I don't think that's relevant."

Josephine smiled to Ayre, taking a seat beside her. "Then, you are truly well? Nothing more terrible than that?"

The redhead shook her head, smiling now. She was thankful the scratches lay deep beneath unruly crimson locks; Even undoing her silver clasp to let them fall fully. Josephine smiled warmly, her posture relaxing from her previous guard.

"Good… I would hate to think you may be keeping something from me." She commented innocently, though it was clear what she was doing. The Antivan used to be a bard, after all. She had noticed something wasn't quite right, and was now trying to weed it out.

Ayre simply smirked, wagging a finger at Josephine playfully. If she could avoid the ambassador finding out, maybe she would feel better. Then again, what if she couldn't be fixed? Her smirk struggled until she just grinned, thoughts racing.

If the red lyrium couldn't be removed, she just lost time. Precious time to defeat Corypheus, to heal the sky… to spend with Josephine? Throat tightening, Ayre was glad that Josephine looked away; Her face contorting into grief before she reset it.

No, she shouldn't think like that. If anyone could find a cure for such a thing, it was the Inquisition. Now, however long that would take…

Shaking her head, Ayre smiled again and leaned into Josephine's side. She listened to the Antivan speak of all the things she had missed; Relaxation seeping in deeper to her bones. She would be fine, as long as she had Josephine by her side.

* * *

Not speaking was harder than she thought it would be. Ayre sat at the long table, waiting to be served. Josephine sat on her side, Cassandra at the other. The ambassador was surprised when Leliana seated herself opposite; Usually the spymaster took her meals in the rookery.

"One cannot eat there every night." Leliana smiled, tossing back one of Josephine's old comments. The Antivan chuckled softly, nodding in recognition. She was still suspicious of if there were more wrong, but nothing seemed amiss.

Varric opted out of dinner, citing writer's block. The Iron Bull passed Ayre a small jar of honey, shrugging when Josephine wasn't looking. Though when the ambassador returned her gaze, Ayre eagerly spooned a small amount into her tea and took a sip.

Except it wasn't honey. It was vinegar. Ayre sputtered, covering her mouth as she stood. Everyone's eyes were on her, most confused and a select few terrified.

Josephine watched her with a calculating stare, even if she seemed to regret her decision to fool the Inquisitor. She had snuffed out the lie, and made it impossible to deny at this point.

Ayre swallowed thickly, taking a confused Cassandra's water tankard to drown down the vinegar. " _ **Josephine!"**_  She roared, startling most of the table's occupants.

"Fucking piss shite, what the fuck was that?!" Sera almost jumped out of her skin, an arrow held within one hand. To her credit, the ambassador appeared unaffected.

"I knew there was something else." Josephine's own voice was steely, and she stood to cross her arms. "I would be grateful for an explanation." She spoke, gaze fixated on Ayre.

The younger covered her mouth, damning herself for being so foolish. Cassandra stood, sighing as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "It is… a little complicated."

Josephine scoffed softly. "I would imagine so, with that… voice." She eyed Ayre up again, as if to make sure she wasn't a demon. That was occurring quite often today…

"Let's discuss this in private, shall we?" Leliana stood, escorting a haughty Josephine from the dining room. Unsure of whether to follow, Ayre stood there dumbly.

"Uh… I'd like an 'explanation' too, demon voice." Sera waved her hand, slipping the arrow back into the quiver on the ground. Dorian glanced about, fidgeting with his hands.

Blackwall quirked a brow, Vivienne only seemingly partially interested. Cole entered the room, his voice filling the uncomfortable silence.

" _Maker, it hurts. Every step sends an ache to my skull. The red lyrium can't grow from such small scratches, can it? Should have been more careful, less like the warrior Cassandra is. Perhaps I should opt to use a bow instead of daggers. But the thrill of the fight is so important, one can't hide away in shadows forever."_ He neared Ayre, raising a hand to her wound.

She winced but let him, wary of what he could do. The spirit only seemed to observe, letting crimson locks hide them area away again.

"It bleeds into your head. You'll see things, not there. Hear them, too. Almost like being in the fade, but never quite so disorienting. When these things happen in the waking world, you get angry."

Ayre wasn't sure which was worse; The accusing stares of some of her friends, or the red creeping in further into her vision. There was only but a small circle of original color left in her field of vision, all else being eaten away by the reddened blight.

At this rate, she may go blind before succumbing to the red plague.

* * *

**AN: Muahahahaha. Now, there is very little to be found on _curing_  red lyrium sickness. I did find, however, that red lyrium needs more and more to actually take over a host. So, these small scratches will not lead to anything dire, but as it is still unnatural, there will be... interesting side effects. I also have a very unorthodox way of handling it, so look out for the next chapter! Please, comment!**


	12. Desperate Solutions

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Desperate Solutions**

* * *

By the next day, all within Skyhold were aware of their leader's delicate condition. Varric was doing his best to stay out of Ayre's way, due to the red lyrium of her wound, and her attitude during.

They had been warned of worsened aggression, but perhaps they hadn't been warned enough. The Iron Bull seemed to find it most amusing; While all stayed out of the Inquisitor's way, he barreled into it.

"Hey, fire-crotch." He smirked as she made to pass him, her hands clenched into fists. Josephine was desperate to keep her love's temper down, but even  _she_  avoided her.

" **Bull…"**  Ayre growled and rounded on him, her skin pale from the sickness. She wavered on her feet, squaring her stance after a moment. Even stricken with this, she would not be viewed as weak. Least of all, not in the training courtyard.

"This red shit is making you angry, boss. Why not take it out? Come on, I can handle it; And that way, you won't make Ruffles cry." Bull teased, though was doing his best to antagonise Ayre.

The redhead hadn't seen Josephine since dinner last night, but hadn't sought her out either. The lyrium pulsed in her head, causing another burst of pain. Ayre closed her eyes, thankful that her weapons had been taken. If not, a dagger would have been thrown to take out Bull's remaining eye…

"Counting to ten? Come on, you can hit me, and you're counting? That's so-" The burly man grunted, the Inquisitor's fist pulling back from his stomach. "Oof. Yeah, that's better. Red shit make you stronger, too?"

Ayre refused to speak, didn't want the whole yard to hear her disembodied echo. Bull grinned, knowing he had her now.

"Hey, get that stick." He pointed, watching the Inquisitor take one of the training staves from a barrel. "Good, good… Now, either I can hit you with this stick, or you hit me."

Ayre gave him a look so incredulous, the qunari barked with laughter. "I thought so. Give me all you got." He rounded his shoulders, squaring himself up before nodding.

This was stupid. The Inquisitor eyed him again before swinging out, letting the thick wood strike against a firm stomach.  _Thwack!_

"What the hell was that?" Bull asked, not having budged an inch. "Did a nug just lick me?"

Head pulsing, Ayre pulled back to strike him again. The wood creaked from her tight hold, splintering in the middle. The qunari just laughed her off, until the stave broke against his jaw. He landed on his ass, looking a little dizzy.

"...good one…" He muttered, rubbing against darkening skin.

"Inquisitor." Cassandra's voice caught her, Ayre's stance calming immediately. The broken stave was taken from her grasp, and the seeker took hold of her hands to inspect them.

"Torn skin, a few splinters as well no doubt." The Free Marcher's callouses had been ripped open from the careless strikes.

Ayre furrowed her brows, scowling to the seeker. Cassandra ignored the face, turning on Bull to admonish him. "Don't encourage her." She ordered, tugging the redhead's wrists for her to follow.

Unable to voice her contempt, Ayre kept close. Cassandra led her towards the smithy, and up to where her bedroll lay.

"You cannot afford to be so careless." The elder woman reminded her, sitting her down at the table.

" **...I'm trying not to be."** Ayre murmured, wincing to the duality of her voices. " **My head aches, and… I think the red lyrium whispers to me."** She softly admitted, eyes watching Cassandra.

"It may. We need to… watch you, and control your outbursts. It is good that Bull allowed you to vent, but I think we should just be careful." Cassandra brought over bandages, taking her seat opposite of Ayre.

" **Cassandra… does it ever get any easier?"** Ayre could speak freely here; The noise of the smithy drowning her voice out.

The seeker gave her an odd look, dabbing at the blood of her palms. "Be specific, I do not understand red lyrium ailments…"

" **Not that…"**  The redhead winced to the feeling of cloth against wounds. " **...Life."**

"Does  _life_  ever get easier? You would have to ask someone else, or be an optimist. Life isn't easy." Cassandra snorted softly, starting to wrap the Inquisitor's palms.

"You could be rich, but people would always want you dead. Poor, the same. I myself live and have lived quite the hard life, even with my  _nobility_." Cassandra all but spat, sighing to herself. "Life is not easy, but it can be made quite joyous."

Ayre smiled to that, humming lowly in her throat. " **Joyous…"** She repeated, giving a small nod. Instead of speaking more, she took back a bandaged hand and pat over her heart.

The seeker playfully rolled her eyes before returning the gesture. "Now then, I believe Lady Montilyet would be quite pleased if you met her." Cassandra stared the younger woman down, gaining a small smile.

Ayre fidgeted, nodding faintly as she stood. She bowed her head in thanks, feeling the seeker kiss her brow.

"You are one of the greatest women I've ever known. Don't let this take that away." The older woman grasped her shoulders, squeezing softly.

The Inquisitor smiled, nodding before she enveloped the seeker into a hug. Hearing Cassandra chuckle, Ayre grinned happily. This Inquisition was her new family, and she would defend them with her life.

* * *

Josephine was particularly busy this day; Turning away all that would see the Inquisitor. "She has had a bad night, and needs recovery." She politely implied, smiling to all who left her. It was much easier to blame the behavior on a hangover than a life-threatening wound…

Seeing the last of the visiting Orlesians out, Josephine sighed and let her shoulders fall for a moment.

" **Josephine?"** Ayre regretted speaking, watching the ambassador jump in fright. She grimaced, fully stepping in from the window.

"How did you…?" The Antivan cocked a brow, a hand upon her bosom. Ayre gave her a grin, twirling a dagger instead of answering.

"Oh… You're a rogue." Josephine chuckled softly, having forgotten. "I am glad to have an answer to that, by the by. You were ever so mysterious."

The redhead shrugged playfully, holstering the dagger away. She stepped around Josephine, locking the door that led the way into the great hall. She grasped the older woman's hand, leading her to the chairs by the fire.

"I do apologize for last night, my love…" Josephine frowned, taking a seat. Ayre neglected the empty seat, instead content to sit at the elder's feet. She shook her head, crimson hair being toyed with by the Antivan.

"It was rather rude, but so was your reluctance to tell me the truth." Josephine scolded softly, smoothing locks from the wound. No matter how gentle she was, Ayre still flinched.

The two scratches smoldered with the cherry-red of the infected lyrium, pulsing almost in time with the Anchor. Josephine winced this time, soothing the hurt as she pet through crimson locks.

"My poor darling… Is there anything I can do?"

Ayre shook her head, curling closer to rest her head against Josephine's lap. She stayed silent still, taking one of the elder's hands. " **I love you, Josephine."** Even with the duality taking over her voice, she wanted the elder to know.

Calm this time, the ambassador smiled and gently pet along the nape of the Inquisitor's neck. "I love you too, my darling."

* * *

"Even afflicted as so, we still need to prepare." Leliana eased down her hood, gazing down upon a sleeping Ayre. The Inquisitor had fallen asleep in Josephine's lap, and the spymaster had come to fetch them both.

"Desperately." Vivienne agreed, an arm looped through the seeker's. Cassandra frowned, obviously having hoped she would be excused from the nightly dancing practice.

"It seems a shame to wake her." Josephine sighed, gently petting along crimson hair. "I'm sure she hasn't slept much since becoming afflicted."

Leliana shuffled closer, kneeling to survey the Inquisitor's wound. "No, she hasn't." She confirmed softly, watching the faint glow of the red lyrium.

"Has the Hero of Ferelden written back yet?" Cassandra kept her voice low, not wanting to disturb Ayre.

"Not just yet. I only hope she has a solution to this, though we never came across the red lyrium in our travels. We can only pray."

" **Hmph."** The echoed grunt of the Inquisitor startled all but Vivienne, the Knight Enchanter chuckling lowly.

"Seems our sleeping beauty wakes."

Leliana stood, as to not startle her fellow redhead as Ayre began to stir. Raising a hand first to her head, the youngest winced and noticed their company. " **I fell asleep?"**

"You did." Josephine smiled fondly to her, kissing her brow as she helped Ayre to her feet.

Gazing at the other women, the Inquisitor put it together. " **Another dancing lesson?"** She asked softly, though the duality of her voices made it stern.

"I'm afraid so, darling. We've little time as it is to prepare." Vivienne took her arm, giving Cassandra a chance to shake herself off.

" **Mmph… I apologize if I stumble more than usual."** The Inquisitor murmured, red blurring along the edges of fade-touched veridian.

Josephine gave her a soft smile, leading the way to the youngest's quarters. "No apologies, my love." She picked up the lute on the way in, taking a seat and laying it across her lap.

Ayre cocked a brow, Vivienne's presence being replaced by Leliana.

"I may be a bit rusty myself at these steps." The Nightingale smiled, chuckling when Ayre rolled her eyes. "Now then… One, and two."

All through the night the dancing lessons drove on; Ayre surprised at how easy it was to keep her anger in check. Between Josephine's playing; the accented words of her song touching something deep within them all, Leliana's sure footwork and easy flirting left her cheeks dusted.

Even Cassandra eventually grew tired of just watching, and extended a hand to Vivienne. The dances came easier, most slow and utterly formal rather than free movements. Ayre appreciated that, finding the control the best thing for her.

Just before dawn, when they were all a degree of sweaty and tired, a raven docked along the balcony. "If that is from Parthena… She must have dropped everything to reply." Leliana chuckled, helping Ayre sit before checking it.

Josephine set the lute away, toying at the curled ends of the Inquisitor's hair. "Is it from her?" She asked, feeling the younger woman lean against her shoulder.

Reading the page hungrily, Leliana gave a sweet smile before sighing. "It is… She may have a solution, though it is… hard to say."

"What is it?" Cassandra drew close, as if to take the letter away.

"Darkspawn blood."

* * *

**AN: Forgive me for the wait and the short chapter! I've just started a new job, so my time is precious lol! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter, and please comment!**


	13. Envious Tales

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Envious Tales**

* * *

"Darkspawn blood?!" Cassandra almost seemed outraged, trying to snatch the letter. Leliana dove under her arm dramatically, seeming years younger as she giggled.

"This has private information!" The spymaster stood again, clutching the parchment close to her bosom. She cleared her throat, reading the last few sentences once more.

" **To… drink?"** Ayre asked softly, though the echo of her voice made it sound stern. She winced, a surge of pressure focused at her temple. Standing, she made her way towards her nightstand to find a potion.

"No, she adamantly stands against you partaking of it. Instead, she seems to want you to douse a rag and… clean the wound." Leliana spoke, nearing their Inquisitor.

Vivienne gently cupped her own chin, a low and musical hum given. "Blighted blood to draw out the blighted lyrium? That could work."

"Or it could seep in and join." Cassandra argued, crossing her arms tight over her chest.

Ayre found the potion Dorian had given her, downing half of it to ease the pain. " **Ugh."** The fruity taste of it was pleasant, but… Red swarmed her vision again, leaving only a point of original color left.

The other four were talking, their voices sounding as if they were under water. Ayre stared, wavering on her feet. Gazing past the conversing women, she started at the sight that greeted her. An identical version of her, cast in onyx. It lifted a finger to its lips, smirking before it disappeared.

"Ayre?" Josephine's voice shook her out of it, but the red remained. "My love, what is it?"

" **I… saw something."** She had garnered the others attention now. " **It looked just like… what I saw at Therinfal Redoubt."**

"The Envy demon?" Cassandra whirled around, darting towards the balcony to gaze out. There was nothing there, nor in the room.

" **It looked just like me, again."** Ayre held a hand to her head, groaning from the pain. Leliana pursed her lips, guiding the Inquisitor to sit. She took the bottle, encouraging the younger woman to drink.

"It seems we may be running out of time." Vivienne commented, brushing crimson locks to view the wound. The scratches had opened further, Cassandra grimacing.

"An inch, this time." She confirmed, wringing her hands together. Josephine sat at Ayre's free side, rubbing circles against her back.

" **First this Anchor, and then red lyrium sickness? I think Andraste is more against me than with-"** Josephine covered Ayre's mouth, forcefully guiding the younger's head to her chest to rest.

"Hush, my love. That's only the anger talking." The Antivan chided, a hint of amusement lingering in her voice. The Inquisitor grumbled, but calmed down.

"Cassandra, you will need to spearhead an expedition to that Dwarven thaig; Valammar, was it?" Given a nod, Leliana turned to the Inquisitor. "From your previous reports, there are darkspawn there. Bring back vials of their blood, but do not touch it without gloves."

" **I'm going too."** Ayre tried to insist, struggling to even stand before she relented. " **Perhaps not."** She grimaced, one hand clutched to her temple.

"I wouldn't think it wise for you to travel like this." Leliana agreed, checking the time. "It will be dawn soon… Perhaps we've danced for far too long this night."

"I will take Varric with me. If anyone is more desperate to be rid of the red lyrium, it's him." Cassandra smirked, seeming amused by it.

"You just want to torment him more… I like that." Leliana winked, the two sharing a brief chuckle.

" **Take Dorian, and Iron Bull, too."** Ayre requested, given a nod from the seeker.

"Of course… We will send a letter when we are to return." Cassandra surveyed Ayre for a moment before descending the steps to leave.

"I will write back to Parthena…" Leliana knelt before the Inquisitor, hands on her knees.

" **...Invite her, here. If there is anything to be found about curing her, perhaps we can join forces and help each other."** Ayre murmured, finding surprise in blue eyes.

"...I desperately hope she will take that chance. I'll send a letter right away." Leliana stood with a smile, taking her leave as well.

Vivienne checked the potion Ayre had been drinking, humming her approval. "More will be supplied come true morning. Seek me out before breaking your fast, won't you?" With a nod, the Knight Enchanter left the two alone.

Josephine soothed Ayre's tense shoulders to relax, kissing the top of her head. "You must be in so much pain, my love… Is there anything I can do?"

Sighing in echoing duality, the Inquisitor shook her head. " **No, Josephine… you've done so much for me already. I love you."** Ayre lifted her head, fighting against the red film covering her eyes.

Josephine must have noticed, taking the younger's face in her hands. "Your eyes… they're not truly focused on me." She didn't take offense, but seemed to realize the deeper meaning.

"My love, can you… can you see me?"

The truth to that was complicated. Instead of speaking, the redhead tried to find Josephine in the center of her vision. Through the pain and the red bleeding into her sight, she truly couldn't focus.

" **I… can't."** She admitted softly, hearing Josephine give a small gasp.

" **There's too much red."** Ayre rose her hand to her temple once more, closing her eyes. Cole was right in his earlier speech, she should have listened more seriously.

It was starting to whisper to her.

* * *

"That stuff is evil, Seeker." Varric's voice was becoming more and more irritating with each passing hour.

"Yes, Varric. If I ever pass another cluster without hearing your voice, however, I may celebrate in the nude." Cassandra dryly grumbled, Iron Bull giving a raucous laugh.

Varric grumbled to himself, glaring at every piece of the blighted lyrium. They had explored this thaig only once before, had cleaned out the carta using it.

"Darkspawn blood to cure the red lyrium… It's an interesting concept, if it works." Dorian spoke, voice low as they came across the top tier to descend. Darkspawn would be upon them soon, and they were ready.

"How's Trevelyan holding up?" Varric asked, Bianca ready in his arms.

"Lady Montilyet says… she is going blind, or something like it." Cassandra sighed, slipping her axe from resting at her belt. She braced her shield immediately, hearing the whistling of an arrow overhead. It bounced off the steel barrier, and Varric put down the Hurlock without effort.

"Bull, I need you and Varric to create a wide breach between Dorian and the fallen darkspawn. We need numerous vials of their blood. Be careful." Cassandra ordered, being the shield for the mage.

"Let's do this as quickly as we can…" Dorian murmured lowly, quickly raising a wall of ice to deflect many more arrows. As it stood, he took three vials from his belt and drudged the thick blood to fill them.

"How're you doing, sparkler?" Varric called over the grunts of injured Darkspawn, firing bolts into their chests as Iron Bull took on the alpha's of the packs.

"Almost got them all…" The mage capped all three vials, tucking them deep into his robes. "Done!" He called, Cassandra backing towards him as more hordes came up from the underground.

"Retreat!" The seeker ordered, Dorian raising another wall of ice once they had regrouped.

"Well, and here I thought that would be the hard part." Varric only relaxed once they were outside of the thaig, able to see the muggy clouds overhead.

"No. The hard part will be if the blood fails." Cassandra spoke solemnly, leading the party towards their camp. Thankfully, their siege of the thaig hadn't led to injury.

It would take a few days to venture back to Skyhold, and Cassandra only hoped they had enough time.

* * *

Ayre was incredibly bored. She was kept to her quarters, all visitors but the spymaster turned away. Josephine was adamant on giving her rest, though it did nothing to help her vision.

The red overtook until no original color remained; The crimson agitating her completely. Vivienne had tried to concoct a potion to lessen the effect, but it seemed for naught.

Many things in the Inquisitor's quarters were ruined; Old books from the Free Marches ripped apart and clothing torn asunder. It was all Ayre could do to refrain from causing bodily harm to  _others_.

"Darling…?" Josephine called softly from the door, entering without a moment's hesitation. She was halfway up the stairs of the landing when she noticed the dagger in Ayre's hand. Startled, she dropped the tray she had been carrying. The tea spilled, stone cups breaking upon impact.

Voice shaky, Josephine considered the scene before her. "M-my love, you shouldn't…" Trailing off, the Antivan noticed droplets of blood at the redhead's feet. She gasped, hands covering her mouth as dark eyes trailed up.

"What did you  _do_?" She asked, hurrying forward. Unsure if the Inquisitor would strike out, Josephine grasped tightly to Ayre's wrist. The bloodied dagger fell, no resistance given.

" **I… The voices said I should. T-they said it would help the pain and… they lied."** Ayre softly realized, feeling like a fool. She scowled, even as Josephine fretted over her.

"Where are your bandages, my love?" Josephine tried to remain calm, but the sight of blood was jarring. Ayre lifted her head, nodding to her desk. Sat on the couch, the Inquisitor sighed and cradled her arm to her chest to avoid staining the fabric.

Josephine poked her head through the balcony doors, calling for Leliana. Within moments, the spymaster ascended the stairs with weapons drawn.

"What is it?" Leliana calmed immediately at seeing Ayre wounded. "Was there an attack?"

"Only from the red lyrium." Josephine sighed, bringing a plethora of items over. Leliana cocked a brow, taking only what she needed from the pile; A cloth chosen first to wipe away the blood from the wound.

" **It… spoke to me."** Ayre winced, hearing the elder redhead click her tongue. Once the wound was cleaned, it was bandaged securely.

"We will have to watch you carefully… It was a mistake to leave you alone." Leliana frowned, sitting at the Inquisitor's side.

"I received word from Cassandra. They have the blood, but are a few days out…"

Ayre nodded, raising her hand to weakly cup her temple. She didn't think she could last that long, with the song of the lyrium shaking her bones.

At first, it had sounded strong and triumphant. Now… it was a lonely lullaby, reminiscent of the kind her mother had sung to Lilith when she had trouble sleeping. Lady Trevelyan had often sung to her first daughter as well, but as time passed on, such things grew to pass.

It made her feel terribly lonely.

Snapping back to the present, the Inquisitor found herself gazing upon Josephine. The elder woman sat at her feet, watching her intently. When had Leliana departed? " **I… I can see you again."** The younger murmured, brows furrowing.

Utterly confused, Ayre brought a shaky hand to cup the Antivan's cheek. It seemed neither wished to speak, instead meeting for a warm and desperate kiss. Josephine must be so frightened…

She must feel as if she was already losing her first love.

Ayre pulled back, burying her face into the elder's throat. She heard Josephine softly murmur her name, hands burying themselves in the ends of crimson hair.

"Oh, my poor love…" Feeling the ambassador's lips on her brow, she opened her eyes again. It was no use; Red had taken over her vision again, distorting all images set before her.

Fingers curling to cling to Josephine's dress, Ayre whimpered. " **It's gone… gone…"**

Josephine softly hushed her, curling closer to cradle the younger to her bosom. "Just rest, my darling… Rest, and all will be…" Josephine's brows furrowed, a deepening worry compressing down on her. " _...Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity."_

Ayre rose her brows against the elder woman, curling closer against her. If she was to be Eternity, then was Josephine to be Andraste? Such a sacrilegious thing she would never say aloud, though she toyed with the idea often.

Herself as the Maker, with Josephine as her Bride. Suddenly, with all that was happening around them, it didn't seem to be such a silly notion.

* * *

"Thank the Maker you're here." Leliana met the returning party on the third day, seeming a bit disheveled. A bow was strung to her back, quiver accompanying it.

"Was there an attack?" Cassandra worriedly gazed up at the stone castle, looking for changes. No walls had crumbled from a trebuchet, nor scorch marks from that dragon…

"Yes, and no." Leliana turned her back, leading them up into the grand hall. "The Inquisitor has… worsened. Do you have the blood?"

"Three vials worth." Dorian assured, taking them from deep in his robes. The black liquid sloshed sluggishly, almost as if it were alive itself. Leliana gingerly took them, cradling them close to her chest for what they were.

"How is she?" The mage asked, utterly concerned. Not wanting to publicly answer, the spymaster instead grimaced.

"While you're doing your whatever on her, I'll be waiting down here." Varric excused himself, shaking his head.

"Let me know if I can help." Bull grinned, wandering away himself.

Cassandra surged forward with Dorian, the two following their spymaster to Ayre's quarters. Their nerves surged high, especially given the faint whimpering from outside the door.

Cassandra would have preferred screams.

"My dear cousin, is she-?" Dorian glanced to Leliana, gently taking her sleeve for assurance.

"She… will be better soon. Maker willing." The spymaster bowed her head, leading them up the landing.

Not in bed as they would have expected, Ayre was instead curled up on the floor. She was clutching her head, writhing in pain.

"Maker's spit…" Dorian grimaced, nearing her side to kneel down. He settled a hand along her ribs, stilling her briefly. "It's alright now, we've returned…"

Ayre's eyes opened, crimson leaving not a trace of veridian behind. Cassandra flinched, kneeling by the Inquisitor's head. Josephine was utterly distraught; hands being wrung together as she gazed upon her lover.

"She's been getting worse." The Antivan muttered, taking a breath to calm herself. Leliana carefully doused the middle of a rag with the darkspawn blood, drawing close.

"Hold her down, carefully." The spymaster warned, Dorian and Cassandra nodding. Ayre struggled weakly but was ultimately overpowered; Her head being braced by the seeker.

"I pray this works." Leliana softly murmured, brushing crimson locks from the glowing wound. She pressed the bloodied rag against it, startled only momentarily by the dual primal yell of the Inquisitor.

Josephine closed her eyes tight, hands clasped as she prayed. " _Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just…"_

The youngest thrashed from the burning touch of the black blood, but Leliana kept the rag flush to her wound. Slowly, her body began to calm, and the spymaster noticed something.

"Look… there's red in the black of the blood." Leliana showed them, even a frightened Josephine.

"Does that mean that the blood is drawing out the red lyrium?" Dorian asked, a hopeful expression taking hold. Ayre voiced her distaste of this rough treatment, her voice weak and not as booming.

"I believe it is… We may be at this all night, but we can sacrifice one night of sleep for our Inquisitor's life." Leliana set the rag back against the wound, closing her eyes to the groaning protest.

" _In the long hours of the night when hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know your Light remains."_

* * *

**AN: I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! There is actually little information about getting red lyrium OUT of someone, as I have stated earlier, but I figured this may do it. Please, comment!**


	14. Palace Woes; Part One

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Palace Woes; Part One**

* * *

It took all night; Rags of darkspawn blood slowly drawing out the red lyrium. When at last those now thick scratches ceased to glow, and Cassandra confirmed there was no more of the blighted lyrium within their Inquisitor, the four gave a breath of relief. Dorian, tasked with ridding of the blighted element, took his leave.

Ayre was unconscious, as she had been for several hours. Josephine sat beside her on the floor, rubbing a circle against her back. "Poor dear… I cannot imagine the hurt." She murmured, holding back crimson locks. The scratches had begun to bleed for the first time, blood a healthy dark.

Cassandra began to dress the wound when Ayre stirred, signs of life returning for the first time in hours.

"My love?" Josephine alerted Leliana with a gesture, the three older woman surveying their Inquisitor.

Fade-touched veridian slowly opened, unfocused. Lifting her head, she was made to be still. Cassandra finished wrapping the bandage, easing back to give her room.

Lifting a hand to place atop the bandaged area, Ayre slowly sat up. Gaze flicking between the three of them, the Inquisitor lowered her hand. She seemed afraid to speak; tongue wetting her lips before she tried.

"It's gone?" Her hoarse voice seemed to surprise even herself, and she sighed in relief. "Thank the Maker…"

Josephine helped her to her feet, letting the younger woman lean against her. "I was so worried, my love…" She gushed, kissing atop crimson locks.

Ayre smiled, weakly leaning against Josephine. "Thank you, Cassandra, Leliana… I'm so tired." She couldn't hide it either, stumbling even with the extra help.

"Let's get you into bed, hm?" Leliana took her other side, the two older women easing her beneath covers. Cassandra neared her, kneeling to brush her lips against the Inquisitor's brow.

"Sleep well." The seeker brushed her cheek, taking her leave with Leliana. Josephine stayed, gently sifting through crimson locks. She could barely believe it was over.

"...Josephine?" Ayre's voice was still weak, and thankfully no longer a duality.

"What do you need, darling?" The Antivan lowered herself, thumb stroking the hollow of the younger's cheek. Ayre did seem ragged, but she would be better soon enough.

The redhead faintly shook her head, closing her eyes as she slid over to be closer. "Just you…" Before being overcome by sleep once more, the thought of that Envy demon sprang to mind. Had that just been a hallucination…?

Furrowing her brow, Ayre gave in to exhaustion. Whatever it had been, it would wait until morning.

* * *

The sun had been up for quite some time before Ayre showed the first signs of waking. She heard voices; Pleasant ones, thankfully. Clinking of glasses, smell of tea and food…?

"Oh, she's waking." Josephine's voice softly hushed the rest, and the Inquisitor felt gentle fingers along her brow. "Good afternoon, Ayre." Accented voice teasing, the redhead chuckled softly.

"Seems I overslept." Ayre was helped to sit up, but found herself not needing it. Shielding her eyes briefly from the sunlight streaming in, the Inquisitor inspected her guests.

"My, dear cousin, you could just sleep the day away?" Dorian grinned, raising his teacup to his lips. Ayre smirked, feeling the bandages at her temple.

"No more than you, I suppose." She stood without help, making sure she was fine. Stretching, she rubbed a hand along her grimy coat and frowned.

"I've seen that your other clothing was laundered." Josephine offered her a wrapped bundle with a smile. "Once you are decent, come join us?"

"Of course." Leliana and Cassandra were seated at the small table as well, trying to coerce Dorian into something, by the looks of it.

Ayre slipped into the large closet space to change, pulling on thick breeches and smoothing down a tunic. It wasn't sleeveless as preferred, but it was clean. She heard the others share a laugh, and smiled to herself. It was inspiring that even in the face of the unknown, she had those who would do anything to help.

"What's the plan for the day?" The Inquisitor teased, joining them at last. She gingerly sipped the still steaming tea, giving a low sigh to the way it warmed her up. If she wasn't mistaken, this was Josephine's favorite. It smelled deliciously of honey and was just as sweet, yet tart enough to keep the flavor sharp.

Ayre thought it rather suited the ambassador well.

"Well, we have to reserve our invitations from Halamshiral for the Winter Palace." Leliana pointed out, eyeing the Inquisitor. "Your  _full_  name will be required."

"Of course it will be." Ayre kept a smile, as if it didn't bother her. "My full name, as is, is Ayre Trevelyan Pavus Pentaghast." She rose her teacup to her cousin, then the elder woman she had come to love as a sister.

Cassandra's cheeks gained a slight flush, the seeker sputtering even as Leliana wrote. "Perfect." The spymaster flashed a grin to both of them, Dorian chuckling lowly.

"Montilyet will be coming after." Ayre teased Josephine, the Antivan forcing herself to swallow her tea.

"My, what a beautiful proposal." Leliana teased, her hood down. She looked well-rested compared to the night before; Haggard after staying up so long ensuring in their Inquisitor's well-being.

"Not a proposal just yet, but the promise of one. Makes the waiting all the more… enjoyable." Ayre took another sip from her cup, enjoying Josephine's flushed cheeks.

"You certainly are feeling better." Cassandra chuckled softly, checking the sun's position from the doors to the balcony. "We don't have much time."

"Much time? Is there another pressing matter?" Ayre glanced between the three, and only Leliana met her gaze.

"Wha-"

"It's nothing as dreadful, this time." The spymaster promised, settling a hand over Ayre's free one. "The ball is in one week's time."

"How long… was I inflicted; recovering?" Ayre seemed utterly baffled.

"One week inflicted, one recovering." Josephine admitted, the Inquisitor's lips parted in disbelief.

"But, I thought it was only last night-?" Ayre quieted, shaking her head. "I suppose that's why I feel so much better." She murmured, reaching up for the bandage at her temple.

"They may be scars, but nothing your hair cannot hide." Cassandra offered in absence of comfort for the time lost, smiling softly.

"Have we outfits for the ball?" Ayre suddenly sprang up, looking more concerned.

"The designs have been taken care of, and are being tailored as we speak." Leliana stood as well, quirking a brow.

"Oh… Any chance I can have some alterations prepared?" The younger redhead quirked a brow, seeming serious.

Eyeing her, Leliana tilted her head. "I suppose, if they were simple?"

Finding a parchment on her desk, Ayre began to write her request. "Dorian, Cassandra, and Sera will be attending as well." She added, handing off the slip to the spymaster.

Reading it, Leliana gave a bold grin. "Of course. I'll have them take note of these changes immediately." Giving a wink, the spymaster was off.

"Do I want to know?" Cassandra seemed a little irritated at having to go, now filling out her part of the invitation.

"It will be loads of fun." Dorian promised, doing the same after the seeker was done.

Josephine softly giggled, filling in her information last. "Cullen has to sign, and then Sera. After that, we will send it off." She smiled to Ayre, taking the redhead's hand when she joined the table again.

"Mm…" The Inquisitor seemed mildly distracted, but leaned in to kiss Josephine's cheek. "I will need a bath." The younger teased, chuckling as she stood.

Cassandra left the table as well, tugging Dorian when he insisted to stay. "It wouldn't do you well to see your cousin naked."

"Nor your sister." The mage teased, and the seeker gave a brief stop.

"Sister…"

* * *

"Ah, exactly how I had pictured it…" Admiring the fabric of their militia-esque uniforms, Ayre smirked. The uniforms all matched but one; The Inquisitor's own uniform dyed differently. Instead of where crimson had been, it was now a deep ebony. The gold lingered, and the blue sash had been dyed as red as her hair.

"Why such a radical change?" Josephine asked, a bit perturbed.

"A bold statement." Vivienne offered her insight, smiling at how pleased the Inquisitor was. "While you have matching uniforms, she does need to stick out."

Ayre grinned, back in her familiar state of dress. Sunkissed skin was a bit fair, but only from her being downed for so long. Rubbing a bare arm, she adjusted her coat and hummed. "I think I'll have my hair down for this as well… No doubt the Orlesian's keep theirs fair and tidy."

"Showing your wild side to the royal court, Inquisitor?" Vivienne chuckled softly, nodding once. "Very admirable."

"The Grand Duke is the one who has secured the Inquisition's invitations. No doubt you would have been invited either way, but he gains power as being the one to escort you, so to speak." Leliana approached, eyeing their uniforms. "My, I would have preferred a dress…"

Ayre chuckled lowly, crossing her arms. "With blue satin shoes, wasn't it?" She teased the spymaster, watching the light blue gaze cut to her.

"I  _have_  read the stories, you know." Ayre continued, tapping at her lips softly. "What was it…? ' _Parthena with eyelashes like little butterflies'_?" She stopped abruptly, with the tip of a dagger to her throat.

"Well, that's not appreciated." The Inquisitor pointed out, listening to Leliana chuckle.

"It would do well if the ramblings of my youth were not repeated." The elder redhead warned her, slipping the dagger back into her sleeve.

"But of course… Has the Hero of Ferelden responded to our offer to have her?" Ayre kept her damnable grin, but it faltered when Leliana frowned.

"Not just yet." The spymaster shook her head, hood down once more. "We cannot afford to wait longer, I'm afraid. We must make sure we are prepared, and make for Halamshiral."

"Yes… Afraid this isn't something to be put off." Ayre smiled softly, gaze returning to their uniforms. Militant in style, perhaps something she would have worn by default if given the choice. Something about them reminded her of her youth; Back when she was but a teenager.

Shaken out of her thoughts, the Inquisitor sighed and nodded. "To Halamshiral."

* * *

"Now, darling, you must be prepared." Josephine's voice over the winter wind was a kindness; Yet her slight scolds were not. "You are… a fantastic speaker, diplomacy almost comes naturally to you. But those at the Winter Palace will be of the utmost finest that Orlais has to offer."

Ayre listened to her intently, though knew she herself may go off-script, as it were. She had changed from her sleeveless coat into something more heavy, hair tied up to not let it be disturbed.

"Josephine, I will not pretend that I know just how to play the Game-" Cut off as she hid her face from the wind minutely, Ayre grumbled. "But, I can charm my way into seeming like I do."

"That is true." Leliana rode to meet their side; The spymaster on a sturdy horse. Josephine had deigned to ride behind their Inquisitor, hands braced atop strong shoulders. The Antivan had said it was for the advice, and yet…

"Ayre is very charming; She has a way with words that seems as though she is older than she truly is. That will be to her advantage." Leliana continued, eyes scouting ahead for any trouble. They were another few hours away, and had been traveling for days.

"Why, thank you." The Inquisitor tipped her wide-brimmed hat, a smirk playing on her lips. "Perhaps I might even persuade Empress Celene to dance with me?"

"That may be giving you too much credit." Leliana warned, smirking herself. "Though it isn't uncommon for women to be seen dancing together in Orlais. If a woman does ask you to dance, do not seem shocked."

"I would have actually thought that… looked down upon?" Ayre quirked a brow, feeling Josephine's hands around her waist instead. "Ostwick doesn't exactly have high hopes for such things."

"That is no doubt why Orlais thinks the Free Marches so… quaint."

"Even with our noble blood as old as theirs, even older." Ayre huffed softly, turning from the wind again. "The Trevelyan's are such an old family… Well, were. Unless some of my cousins survived."

"Miss me?" Dorian rode up on Ayre's free side, the redhead grinning to him. "I daresay I can't remember the last time I rode something quite so endurable. Oh wait, before we left."

"Please don't tell me anymore about that." The Inquisitor snickered softly, shaking her head. Dorian have a playful smirk, winking her way.

"Cassandra, are you alright? Cullen?" Ayre called over the wind, receiving a grunt and another call back.

"Fine, Inquisitor." Cullen had to shout back, giving a disgruntled noise as the wind picked up a chillier edge. "I don't suppose we're close?"

"We are, but we must stop once in town to change. Then, it's just a brisk walk to the palace." Leliana advised, seeming almost nostalgic.

"You've visited before?" Ayre asked, giving a faint look of surprise. "Have you met Celene before?"

"Not personally, but I've seen her at parties I've attended in Orlais." Leliana tilted her head, a hum escaping her. "She is rather well-loved."

"No doubt why Corypheus now aims his gaze to her." Ayre narrowed her eyes, a flurry of snow dancing around them. "How close are we to town?"

"Just a few more hours, I'm sure." Josephine squeezed her waist, the redhead grinning softly under her scarf.

"I wonder if Varric is pleased that I didn't invite him, or regrets it. I'm sure he would love to have this section in his book." The Inquisitor chuckled, but Leliana laughed outright.

"You forget, Inquisitor, Varric has quite the reach when it comes to such tales. No doubt he'll have someone there to watch your every dramatic move."

"I am  _not_ dramatic." Ayre made a point of tossing her tied hair, Josephine erupting into giggles.

"No, no, of course not… All teasing aside, I have made sure to sample his work of you. It is rather… fitting." Leliana met more at Ayre's side, the dracolisk beneath the Inquisitor hissing in distaste. "I still think you should have brought a horse."

"I wanted to seem threatening." The younger redhead shrugged her shoulders, hearing Cassandra chuckle behind them.

"Your very presence here tonight  _will_ be threatening." The seeker called over the wind, the first lights of lanterns able to be seen. "But, don't expect me to dance."

"Now I will have to save one for you." Ayre smirked, Sera snickering at her back. "You've been rather quiet." The Inquisitor pointed out, the elf shrugging.

"Colder than a witch's tit, why open my mouth here?" Sera huffed, gaining Dorian's laughter as well.

"We'll be upon them, soon." Ayre promised, a touch of something devious in a fade-veridian gaze. "Though, I daresay Thedas will not be the same when we leave." The tone of her voice had dipped down slightly, enough to gain Leliana's full attention. The Inquisitor chuckled, masking it easily.

"Let's go make history, shall we?"

* * *

**AN: I am utterly so very sorry for the wait! Work and the impending holidays have zapped me, but have no fear! CtA will continue until it is finished, and I even plan for a little more of a different flavor. Halamshiral and its beautiful Winter Palace are the Inquisition's next conquest, how will they fare and exactly who is running the show? Find out next chapter, and please comment!**


	15. Palace Woes; Part Two

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Palace Woes; Part Two**

* * *

As they came upon the town they would be changing in, Ayre suddenly paused. She fell behind her party, taking the spymaster's wrist as they ducked into a nearby tavern. "You lied to me." The Inquisitor hushed, acting as if they were just lovers wanting out of the cold.

Surprised, Leliana hid it well as she let her arms drape along Ayre's shoulders. "What could I have lied to you about?" It wasn't an evasion, but rather an attempt to coax it out.

"You have met the Empress before. You must have had to, yes? As the Left Hand of the Divine, of course you met her… Now, why did you lie about something so… small as that?" Ayre slipped closer, fade-touched eyes doing a quick sweep. No one suspected a thing about the couple seeming to be eloping.

"I cannot feed you information every second. Some things, you need to remember for yourself; Especially tonight. You cannot afford to let your guard down, even around myself." Leliana stroked along Ayre's jaw, watching the younger redhead intently.

"There is still something different within you, but… You can work past it." The spymaster murmured, granting the Inquisitor a brush of lips before tugging her from the tavern.

Surprised at both the kiss and the words, Ayre watched Leliana carefully. She followed her spymaster, mulling over what had just happened. As they approached the hold they would use to change, Josephine caught the Inquisitor by the wrist.

"Are you alright, darling? It is… fine to be nervous, but I must remind you that everyone inside the Winter Palace will be playing the Game to their best." The Antivan gently swept crimson hair into place, Ayre chuckling softly.

"I am a noble, my dear… While I have not exactly been able to fully show my experience, you will see it tonight." The Inquisitor promised, unlatching her cloak. Josephine eyed her with a bit more than professional interest before Leliana tugged her away.

"We'll dress separately, Josie." The elder redhead teased, sending a glance Ayre's way.

What was the spymaster attempting to do? She wouldn't dare come between Josephine's first love, and Parthena…? Perhaps she was overthinking it; Cassandra had kissed her in much the same way.

Shaking her head, Ayre swept up her hair into a loose hold. The seeker was at her side, shielding her as she changed even through protests. Cullen and Dorian had taken another room, only Sera sharing with them.

"Not gonna look! More than I already have, of course. Proper fit, you both." The elf grinned, changing quickly into her uniform. "Ugh… Hate this."

Ayre's differently dyed uniform was adorned tightly; Around her arms and stomach, but loose where she could fight. "Any reason why my _assets_ are on display?" Cocking her right arm up, the Inquisitor flexed.

"Vivienne thought it would help win more favor." Cassandra sneered, changing into her uniform as well. She ran into the same problem, but more along her back. "I will make a note to kill her."

"Just slightly maim, I'm enjoying the view." Ayre teased, getting an elbow to the gut. She chuckled either way, smoothing down her sable sleeves and stepping into her boots.

Letting wild crimson from its loose hold, she turned to Cassandra and slipped the silver clasp into a pocket. "Keep it safe for me, hm?" She smiled, brushing through her long hair with her fingers.

"Oh, lookit that!" Sera grinned, admiring the view. "Wild, aren't you?"

"Just all the time." Ayre stretched, rolling her shoulders. She slipped a dagger into her belt at the small of her back, hiding it and getting used to the restricted feeling. "Is everyone ready?"

"Mm." Cassandra felt naked without her sword or shield, but knew they would be stashed close by in case of danger.

"Ready as I'll ever be; tits so tight, hate it." Sera adjusted her chest a few times before giving up.

Knocking on the wood separating them from Leliana and Josephine, Ayre peeked her head in. "Ladies?"

"All done, in case you wanted a peek." Leliana teased, giving the Inquisitor a start. Not that she hadn't seen the spymaster without her hood, but…

"You're wearing makeup?" Brows pulling together in faint confusion, Ayre was led further in.

"You're not? I'm jealous." Leliana teased again, sitting her down. Josephine came over with a stick of coal, humming lowly.

"I… never have. I won't start now, either." She warned them, the two elder's exchanging a look.

"Just for a dramatic flair? Along the brows, dark until bright? So bold… I think you would look rather irresistible." Josephine batted her eyelashes, effectively lowering Ayre's guard.

"Oh… Alright. But just the coal, nothing else." The Inquisitor warned, closing her eyes. Her nose scrunched at the first touch, but smoothed out as Leliana's hands worked at her shoulders.

"Leliana, you've become rather touchy lately." Josephine softly spoke, tracing under crimson with coal.

"Don't worry, Josie. I'm not after your lover." The eldest teased, chuckling as both Josephine and Ayre's cheeks flushed.

"Oh, so it hasn't gone that far yet?"

"Of course it hasn't, you would know if it had. Or interrupted…" Ayre grumbled, hearing Josephine's giggle in her ear. She blushed darker, opening her eyes when nudged.

A small hand-mirror was presented, the Inquisitor admiring her face. "That does look rather… strong. I like it."

"I'm glad you approve. Now, we must make our way to the palace. Fashionably late is fine, but overly so is unacceptable." Josephine bustled around, adjusting both her and Ayre's uniforms.

"Oh." Placing a hand along Ayre's arm, the Antivan flushed when the Inquisitor flexed with a smirk.

"We must get going, Josie." Leliana sung, chuckling as she led the others out.

"My word, is that my beautiful cousin?" Dorian swept into a bow, done up as handsomely as ever.

Ayre grinned, but winced from the cold. "Let's hurry towards the grounds, hm?"

"Grand Duke Gaspard will meet us there." Leliana nodded, linking her arms with Josephine and Cullen. The blonde man sighed, gently slapping the spymaster's hand from his hair.

"The hair stays the same, Leliana." He grumbled, obviously not happy about the situation.

"Shame, if you actually took care of it, it may even look decent."

Ayre chuckled, rounding up Sera and Cassandra. "Ladies, handsome cousin… We've got a party to crash."

"...It's not crashing if we're invited, Inquisitor." Cassandra reminded, following the redhead up the trail.

"With the Inquisitor, it might be." Ayre warned, guarding herself against the cold. Oh what she wouldn't give for Halamshiral to host the _Summer Palace_.

* * *

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor." As the Inquisition's guards parted to create a pathway, Ayre stepped out first. Everyone was wearing… masks. It was a masquerade, after all.

Should they have worn them? Ayre wouldn't have, either way.

"The rumors all around sing tales of your exploits. Imagine what the Inquisition could accomplish with the full support of the rightful heir of Orlais." Gaspard approached her, eyes sweeping along her form. No attraction, but rather sizing her up.

Josephine gently pressed a hand against Ayre's back, the redhead noting this signal. This would be the start of the Great Game, for her.

"And which one was the rightful one, again? I keep getting confused." Giving a charming smile, Ayre elicited a raspy laugh from the older man.

"The handsome and charming one, of course, my lady…" Gaspard bowed to her, several others taking notice. Josephine gained a prideful smirk for a moment, gesturing that everyone take to the doors.

Ayre smiled, watching his body language closely.

"I'm not a man who forgets his friends, Inquisitor… You help me, I'll help you." He turned, beckoning her to follow.

The Inquisitor glanced around, following towards his side rather than behind him. "Now, my lady… Are you prepared to shock the court by walking into the grand ball with a hateful usurper? They will be telling stories of this into the next age…"

"I can't imagine that crowd has seen anything better than us in their entire lives." Ayre smoothly handled the parry of words, sunkissed skin seeming much darker in such a climate.

"You're a woman after my own heart, my lady... " His raspy voice dipped low before sparking into a jovial tone. "As a friend, perhaps there is a matter you could undertake this evening? This elven woman Briala, I suspect she intends to disrupt the negotiations. My people have found these… ambassadors, all over the fortifications. Sabotage seems the least of their crimes." Gaspard's voice dipped back into his grave tone.

Ayre glanced up towards the palace, admiring its splendor as well as noting the windows. Her gaze returned leveled to Gaspard, cocking a brow subtly. "That sounds like something I should look into." Her voice lowered as much as his, though was husky instead of grave.

The man sighed softly, lowering his voice again. "Please be as discreet as possible… I detest the Game, but if we do not play it well, our enemies will make us look like villains. Now, we're keeping the court waiting, Inquisitor. Shall we?" He led the way off, but Ayre didn't follow.

Humming lowly to herself, she glanced around the front gardens and admired the beauty. Not to mention, be seen by the other guests.

"Is that the Inquisitor?" A woman's hushed voice caused her to slightly smirk.

"A Marcher? The maker has an odd sense of humor." The man's voice made her scowl, but she smirked once more as she made her way over.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan, at your service." Her smirk strengthened at the withering expression on the man's face. "How may I help you?" She addressed the woman solely, going as far as to step closer and wheedle the man from the conversation.

"Oh, I knew it was you!" The masked woman's blush could almost be seen through the ornamental adornment. "Ah, I need nothing but to gaze upon your visage. You're as… beautifully handsome as they say."

Ayre smiled, dipping her head. "I am glad that I more than meet expectations. Excuse me." She gingerly extracted herself from the conversation, hearing a faint distressed sighed. She backtracked towards the gate, cocking a brow to a noblewoman.

"Maker! What am I going to do if I cannot find my ring…"

"A ring, madame?" Ayre caught her attention, the noblewoman looking sheepish.

"Oh yes, it was a gift… I cannot go into the ball without it!"

The Inquisitor frowned, though nodded as she took a glance around. A ring wouldn't be too hard to find, right? It was cold even out in the front gardens; Frost tinging along her breath. It reminded her of Emprise du Lion, and of her… incident.

Shaking her head, Ayre gazed down into a decorative fountain. Shining in the freezing water, was a ring. "Of course." She grumbled, gently plucking it from the water. She made a show of letting everyone in earshot know she retrieved something, with a loud exclamation.

"Aha! Madame, I believe I found your ring?" She presented it after a flourish of a handkerchief, drying it before placing it back onto the woman's finger.

"You are a treasure! I cannot believe you found it!" Giddiness rising in her voice, the noblewoman's smile was palpable through the mask. "You have saved me a lifetime of mortification… How can I thank you enough?"

"No need, enjoy the ball." Ayre smiled softly, bowing her head as she stepped away. She could gain approval through such small gestures, as long as she seemed… modest.

"The Verchiel Fountain… beautiful." Ayre murmured to herself, admiring the lions circling the structure. As she passed it to ascend the stairs, she heard a hushed conversation.

"Can Gaspard take the throne without the backing of the Council of Heralds?"

"He plans to take it by force. If the Council won't recognize him, he'll march against them."

Ayre reached the landing, gazing out towards the gardens again. If Gaspard needed to be held back rather then encouraged, then she would do just that. Entering past the second set of gates, the Inquisitor overheard another.

"We can only hope Celene prevails tonight. Gaspard will ruin us all."

Faintly concerned, Ayre shook her head. Approaching the final set of gates, they opened to her proximity. She caught Josephine's eye, the ambassador approaching her from within.

"Inquisitor, a moment, if you please?" Those normally soft and kind eyes were narrowed, almost as if in annoyance?

Greatly concerned, Ayre nodded and stepped closer. "What is it?"

"I must warn you before you go inside; How you speak to the court is a matter of life or death." Josephine's face softened faintly, and the Inquisitor relaxed.

"You know… you're incredibly beautiful when you worry." Ayre let her voice barely be caught by the Antivan, a huff sent her way.

"It is no simple matter of etiquette or protocol. Every word, every gesture is measured and evaluated for weakness." Josephine glanced behind Ayre, perhaps indicating the return of the noblewoman's ring?

Ayre gained a crooked smirk, crossing her arms as she shifted her weight to one leg. "Don't they sound delightful? I'm shocked we haven't invited the court to dinner at Skyhold." She teased, but it seemed Josephine was having none of it.

"The Game-" Josephine began, voice raising slightly. "-is like Wicked Grace, played to the death. You must never reveal your cards." The Antivan stepped closer, parting Ayre's arms to adjust her uniform. The sash was smoothed down and straightened as she spoke.

"When you meet the Empress, the eyes of the entire court will be upon you. You were safer at Therinfal Redoubt."

Ayre frowned subtly, taking Josephine's hand to hold over her heart for a moment. "Be sure to warn the others. Cassandra and Dorian I'm sure can handle this, but… Sera?" The two shared a brief chuckle, and a longing in their eyes. Ayre couldn't wait until she could kiss Josephine…

"Everything will be fine." The Antivan smiled, gesturing Ayre lead the way in. " _Andraste watch over us all."_ Josephine prayed softly, following her lover.

* * *

Entering upon the Winter Palace, Ayre was astonished by the amount of warmth. "I can finally feel my fingers again." She muttered lowly for Josephine, the Antivan draping a hand along her back.

"I will have to leave you alone, for now. When you enter the ballroom, we may get a chance to speak?" Josephine strode off after another longing look, the redhead gazing after her before shaking herself out of it.

Ascending the stairs a few heartbeats after watching the older woman go, Ayre took a breath. It had her a bit nervous to be here, but not for all the reasons her friends may suspect.

"I wish there was more news coming from the Grand Cathedral…"

"Good news is becoming an increasingly rare commodity." Another trio of nobles at the top of the stairs were speaking, silenced upon Ayre's approach. She took it in stride, noticing Cullen and Cassandra hesitating entering the ballroom.

"This dress uniform is preposterous. Formal armor would have been better." Cassandra leaned against the marble rail, utterly disinterested. Cullen glance around, stepping closer to speak.

"It will take some time to get our men into the palace, I'll alert you when we're ready."

"The sooner we go in, the sooner we can get this over with." Cassandra grumbled, seeming to wince at her words. Cullen grimaced as well. "I need to have this jacket let out a little…"

"You're both fine." Ayre insisted, a little amused and more relaxed than earlier. She left them to approach Gaspard, adjusting the cuffs of her jacket. With a nod, they entered into the ballroom.

Gaspard took the lead, with one of the servants gesturing the Inquisitor stand by and wait for her name. With a faint touch of nervousness, Ayre did just that.

"And now, presenting: Grand Duke Gaspard de Chelons, and accompanying him…"

Watching Gaspard descend the steps and bow, Ayre prepared to do the same but faltered as her name was spoken. "Lady Inquisitor Arlessamine Cordelia Imogen Esolde Julius Victoria Trevelyan Pavus Pentaghast, daughter of the late Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick!"

Ayre forced herself to move, face aflame with embarrassment. She heard Sera snort, and gazed down to Leliana with a fierce hatred in her eyes. Leliana merely smiled, eyes front and center. Adjusting her posture, the Inquisitor bowed to Celene.

"Vanquisher of the rebel mages of Ferelden, Crusher of the vile apostates of the mage underground!"

"He is so full of it, that's not how it went!" Sera quietly grumbled, still snickering over Ayre's full name. The Inquisitor approached her advisors instead of following Gaspard, eyes on Leliana.

"I will kill you." She warned, only half playfully.

"Champion of the blessed Andraste herself!"

"When will the titles end…?" Ayre asked, facing towards the ballroom floor. Gaspard chuckled over his shoulder. "Did you see their faces? Priceless."

"Accompanying the Inquisitor: Seeker Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena-"

"Get on with it!" Cassandra growled, descending the steps as well with a scowl. That made Ayre feel a bit better.

"Pentaghast. Fourteenth cousin to the King of Nevarra, nine times removed. Hero of Orlais, Right Hand of the Divine." As Cassandra passed her, Ayre let their hands brush together.

"Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Circle of Vyrantium. Son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel." Dorian descended, glancing to Ayre with a chuckle.

Oh, she would murder them _all_.

"Her Ladyship, Mai Bhalsych of Korse." Ayre's lips pursed tight, hearing Sera snicker as she descended.

"Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath." Cullen began to walk, leaving the three ladies on the lower landing. "Commander of the forces of the Inquisition, Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall."

"Such titles…" Cullen bowed to the Empress upon his approach, waiting.

"Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial Court. Veteran of the Fifth Blight. Seneschal of the Inquisition, and Left Hand of the Divine." The spymaster batted her eyelashes to Ayre, chuckling lowly as she made her departure towards Celene.

"That little mouse…" Ayre grumbled, looping Josephine's arm through hers. "Hello darling, my name is _Ayre_ and I'll be your escort to this lovely party."

Josephine flushed in surprise, a hint of great consideration in dark eyes. "And Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City, Ambassador of the Inquisition."

Ayre smiled, leading Josephine down with the others toward the Empress. With a whisper of affection, she untangled from her love to flock to Gaspard's side.

"Cousin. My dear sister." Gaspard addressed the two woman of the upper landing, Ayre glanced back to Leliana, wondering how the spymaster knew her real and full name. She returned her attention back to the Empress, standing tall.

"Grand Duke, we are always honored when your presence graces our court." The sarcasm was wonderfully hidden, Celene curtsying to her cousin.

"Don't waste my time with pleasantries, Celene. We have business to conclude." Gaspard almost spat, and Ayre took the opportunity to speak up.

"My, Gaspard. You would speak to a lady as such?" She quirked a brow, silencing the man's rebuttal as she glanced back to Celene.

"We will meet for the negotiations after we have seen to our other guests." Celene's gaze met with the Inquisitor's, lips almost twitching upwards.

Gaspard sputtered but silenced, giving a flourishing bow. "Inquisitor." His grave voice cut as he took his leave.

"Lady Inquisitor, we welcome you to the Winter Palace." Celene spoke again, addressing her solely. "Allow us to present our cousin, the Grand Duchess of Lydes, without whom this gathering would never have been possible." Celene allowed the woman at her side to step forward, the other blonde curtsying.

"What an unexpected pleasure. I was not aware the Inquisition would be part of our festivities… We will certainly speak later, Inquisitor." The second woman smiled, departing from Celene's side.

"Your arrival at court is like a cool wind on a summer's day." Celene praised the Inquisitor, eyeing her up.

"I am delighted to be here, Your Majesty." Ayre smiled, bowing again.

"We have heard much of your exploits, Inquisitor. They have made grand tales for long evenings… How do you find Halamshiral?"

"I've never seen anything to equal the Winter Palace… or yourself, dear Empress." Ayre cheekily bowed again, hoping harmless flirtation would not be against her.

"What a charming young lady… We hope you will find time to take in some of its beauties… Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor." Celene spared a smile. "We look forward to watching you dance."

With another bow, Ayre left to ascend the steps to the side. She released a breath, gazing out along towards the guests.

"Inquisitor? A word, when you have a moment." Leliana met her at the landing, and Ayre scowled.

"I have more than a moment, and more than several words for you." The redhead grumbled, feeling the embarrassment return. Leliana smiled faintly, encouraging the younger to follow her.

Before chasing the spymaster, Ayre caught Josephine's voice. "Tell me, Yvette, how are mama and papa? Are they in good health? Do they want for anything?"

Yvette? Ayre leaned against the pillar separating her from the conversing duo, intrigued. "Papa's perfectly happy in the studio. _Mother_ is the same as always."

"Meaning she's after you to do more work." Josephine's voice had her smirk, and Ayre suppressed a chuckle.

"You always take her side!" Yvette's held a pout, and the Inquisitor grinned.

"I don't take her side. I happen to think, as she does, you might attend to more of the estate's duties. Also, do stop slouching."

Must be familial… With an uncontrollable urge to know, Ayre advanced around the pillar. "Josephine, and who is this beautiful young woman?"

"Josephine! Oh, Josephine, is this her?" Yvette practically jumped.

The ambassador sighed, raising a hand to her brow briefly. "Inquisitor, please allow me to present to you my younger sister. Yvette Gabriella Montilyet."

Oh, a younger sister? "Delighted to meet you, Lady Montilyet." Ayre bowed slightly, smiling as Yvette seemed most excited to meet her.

"Is it true a dragon bit you?" The young woman asked, Josephine trying to hush her.

"It is! It's actually how Josephine and I broke through our professionalism and…" Ayre paused, unsure if the elder would want their relationship open.

"And fell in love." Josephine finished, face flushed rose.

"Inquisitor, I've heard so much about you! But not as much as I want." Yvette pouted, causing Ayre to chuckle again.

"Josephine writes, but she never _tells_ me anything! Is it true that rebel mages in Redcliffe were performing blood rites and orgies before you stopped them?"

A little surprised, Ayre stifled a chuckle. Josephine turned to her, almost indignant. "Where did you hear such nonsense?"

"Everyone in Antiva says so! Is it true?"

Ayre's lips twitched upwards. "Of course. Every word. Especially the part where everyone was nude. _Everyone_."

"I knew it!" Yvette covered her mouth, almost flush with excitement.

"Ugh." Josephine groaned softly, covering it up as she gave an exasperated glance to Ayre.

The Inquisitor shrugged, smiling softly. "Are you enjoying the ball?"

Josephine smiled, starting to speak. "I see many-"

"The dancing is so dull, Your Worship, but the Empress' gallery is _magnificent_!"

"Yvette…"

"Sorry, Josie." The younger woman quieted for a moment.

"Go on, Josephine." Ayre smiled, taking her lover's hand. Yvette bounced in place, making them both chuckle.

"Half Val Royeaux must be empty, so many of the Empire's finest are in attendance. They've noticed the Empress paying you special attention, but they don't quite know how to take advantage of it yet. This uncertainty won't last long, I'm afraid."

"Mm…" Ayre adjusted her stance, running gloved fingers over Josephine's knuckles. "Tell me about yourself, Lady Yvette. This is the first time I've encountered any of Josephine's family." The redhead grinned, eager to hear.

"She would forget to mention the artists." Yvette huffed, giving Ayre a grin. "I've been studying painting under Antiva's royal tutors."

Ayre seemed impressed, and the younger turned more to Josephine. "You should be proud, Josie. I'm going to be exhibiting my work next season in the city's biggest salon."

Josephine tilted her head, adjusting her stance. "Have you actually sat down and finished a painting yet?"

"I must wait for my inspiration!"

"And I must wait for your tutor's bills." Josephine's free hand rose to her brow, and Ayre grinned.

"Yvette, Josephine is my own inspiration. She is a strong, sweet and warm woman… Everything I've done is because I have her at my side. You need someone like that." The Inquisitor grinned, turning more to Josephine. "I don't know what I'd do without her."

Josephine's face lit up, the longing returning to dark eyes. She leaned in, the two almost kissing before Yvette interrupted.

"You two are incredible!" The younger squealed, reeling her enthusiasm in. Josephine sighed, giving the Inquisitor a look. _Later_.

"Mm… Well, Yvette, this may be my only chance to hear about Josephine when she was a girl." Ayre grinned, watching the younger get more excited.

"Oh, yes! Has she told you about when she was ten and-"

"Yvette. Stop."

"Fine… What about when we were climbing the cliffs by the-"

"No."

Yvette pouted. "She once told the Duke of-"

"Absolutely not."

"Hrmph… She still plays with her doll collection when no one's looking!" Yvette blurted, grinning wide.

Ayre's brows rose, the Inquisitor trying not to laugh.

"Yvette!" Josephine blushed darker, looking as if she may strike her younger sister. "That's… absurd. Absolutely preposterous!" She tried to save face, even as Yvette snickered.

The redhead cleared her throat, chuckling softly. "That is the cutest and purest thing I've ever heard." She grinned to Josephine, the ambassador smiling back bashfully.

Stepping closer to her lover again, Ayre gently kissed her brow. "Which power should the Inquisition throw its weight behind?" She asked, a hand at Josephine's back.

"Celene has held the throne successfully for years. I see no profit in ousting her." Josephine's hands snaked up to Ayre's broad shoulders, squeezing faintly. "Gaspard has run military campaigns but never a kingdom. His transition would be… Let us say, chaotic."

"Mm… I'll see you later, then. You too, Yvette." Ayre smiled, kissing Josephine's temple before she eased away from the two.

"Another time!" Yvette happily smiled, turning more to Josephine. "You didn't tell me she was so cute!"

"Yvette…"

She needed to speak to Leliana… Scowling again, Ayre glanced around and dipped out into the vestibule.

"Good. I was hoping I would catch you." Leliana grasped her wrist, leading the Inquisitor away. "What did the Duke say?"

"He points the finger at Ambassador Briala."

"Mm… The ambassador is up to something, but she cannot be our focus. The best place to strike as Celene is from her side." Leliana led her over to a chaise, taking a seat upon the alabaster fabric.

"Empress Celene is fascinated by mysticism; Foreseeing the future, speaking with the dead, that sort of rubbish." Leliana waved a hand, brows furrowing. "She has an occult advisor… An apostate who charmed the Empress and key members of the court as if by magic…"

Ayre furrowed her brows, not knowing Leliana to be so cold to mages.

"I've had dealing with her in the past." The elder explained, noticing the look. "She is ruthless and capable of anything."

"How can Celene openly keep an apostate in the Imperial court?" Ayre took a seat beside her, cocking a boot up on a stool.

"The Imperial court has always had an official position for a mage. Before now, it was little better than court jester… Vivienne was the first to turn that appointment into a source of real political power."

Leliana leaned forward, looking as if she was charming Ayre again to a few passing guests. "When the circles rebelled, technically every mage became an apostate. The word lost much of its strength."

"Hm… You think she's controlling the minds of the court? That's powerful blood magic." Ayre spoke lowly, guiding Leliana in closer.

"She's worth investigating… can't be sure of anything here. Both leads point towards the guest wing. It's a promising place to start… I'll coordinate with our spies to see if I can find anything better. I will be in the ballroom if you need me." Leliana murmured, attempting to take her leave.

Ayre held her in place, an arm wrapped around the back of the elder. "Why did you kiss me earlier, and how do you know my name?" She softly asked, breath hitting against Leliana's ear.

Suppressing a shiver, the elder chuckled lowly. "The kiss was an apology, for learning and releasing your name to the court. As to how I know it? I am a spy for a reason."

Ayre frowned, but relented as they both stood. "Then you aren't flirting with me?" She teased, though was bested as Leliana's azure eyes gave her a slow once over.

"Of course not." The elder winked, making her way back to the ballroom.

Clearing her throat, Ayre adjusted her sash and surveyed the vestibule. The guest wing, hm? Cassandra was nearby, and she could wrangle Sera and Dorian from their perches to join her…

Wetting her lips, the Inquisitor felt a small pang of something at her temple. It wasn't exactly pain, nor was it pleasure. It felt something between… and before she could focus, it was gone.

She hoped they would be out of Halamshiral soon.

* * *

**AN: I am sooo sorry that this story fell behind! With the holidays over, and my seasonal job over, I have a brief period in which to get some things updated before I either secure that job, or find another. I did this all within a few hours, so forgive me if it seems lacking. I'm rather happy with it, and I hope you will be too! Please, comment!**


	16. Palace Woes Part Three, In Commendam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a true chapter update, yes! Not just a few words about how sorry I am to have been gone for so long, though I am sorry. However, I will do nothing to further distance your enjoyment, so I am pleased to present you all with the newest chapter! Enjoy!

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Palace Woes, Part Three**

**In Commendam**

* * *

 

It was with great reluctance and regret that Ayre finally realized what the pressure at her temple had meant. Halfway through rounding her party together for the guest wing, it occurred to her. She was starting to remember.

She had been inside the Winter Palace before; Exactly only once before. Halamshiral was familiar in an intimately grotesque way. These memories were not welcome, and Ayre swallowed back more than her fair share as they walked. Bile stuck to her throat; horrors of her past aching to come to fruition.

No. No one else would know of this;  _ could _ know of this. It would be her ruin, and all of Thedas with her.

Clearing her throat to push all else away, the Inquisitor roamed the vestibule a bit more before stepping out onto a balcony. The air was chilled, and she regarded the change of color of her uniform with great relief. Sable instead of crimson, it held onto the warmth created and gathered from herself.

Letting the door close behind her, Ayre closed her eyes as the wind caught her unruly hair. Not a lock was brushed out of place, however, especially at her temple where the aftermath of her wound remained. There were many secrets to be discovered here; The Inquisitor had to be careful not to reveal any of her own.

As she approached the railing, something by the corner piece flower pot caught her eye. “Oh, what’s this?” Gingerly, she knelt and snatched it up before others would notice. The cylindrical seal fell open at her touch, and she leaned into the railing to read it.

It appeared to be a list of who entered the… servants’ wing? Who, and when… Catching Briala’s name, more suspicion arose. Perhaps it truly was the so-called Ambassador that she should keep a closer eye on.

Tucking the seal into her jacket, Ayre knew to deliver it to Leliana soon. Now then, she needed to meet with the others… She knew Dorian would most likely be in the gardens, at least what of them could be accessed.

That man knew good scenery when he saw it, and she didn’t believe it was the flowers. Shaking her head, the Inquisitor pat the pocket she had tucked the seal into and set out. Cassandra was back in the vestibule, Sera in the ballroom…

How odd that Dorian would be so far from familiar faces. Perhaps he had followed someone he knew, or simply wished to be away. Nobility didn’t always mean enjoying parties, after all.

Ayre grimaced, remembering how Great-Aunt Lucille always tried to corral her to attend. They were all so utterly…  _ boring _ . Perhaps not boring, but so perfectly constructed that drama was absolutely unheard of. Ah, not boring but  _ dull _ .

Shaking her head, the Inquisitor almost passed by an open door. Ah, Dorian was there; just across the doorway near that balcony-

Another balcony…? Ayre glanced around, the door remaining open behind her. This one had quite an extensive trellis at the end…

“My lady; My lady Inquisitor!” Immediately, her attention and almost personal space was snatched up by three women. They were dressed the exact same, and she had to wonder if this was a major faux-pas, or something deeper.

“May we have a word? It is very important…” Another spoke, their accents deeply Orelsian. “The Empress has sent us with a message for you.” The three curtsied on cue, tempting Ayre.

The rogue quirked a smile, the charming one she reserved for teasing Cassandra. With flourish, she tucked her arm across her chest and bowed from the waist. Her smile widened at the girlish giggles this caused before she straightened. “While I am always happy to hear from her, I’ve just spoken with the Empress. How can I be so sure you three aren’t just here to seduce me?”

Another round of giggles, the accusation taken in playful stride. This was the Game, after all. “My lady Inquisitor… We three wear the masks of House Valmont.” The one closest to her spoke, the middle woman picking up where she left off.

“They signify that we are public faces of the Empress-” Interrupted in favor of the furthest one speaking, the last woman smirked slightly. “They are also extremely fashionable.”

In a better mood, Ayre chuckled lowly. “Of that I cannot begin to deny; I am honored to hear from Her Majesty.”

“Oh, she is the honored one, Inquisitor!”

“Empress Celene is eager to assist the Herald of Andraste in her holy endeavor.”

“She will pledge her full support to the Inquisition as soon as the usurper Gaspard is defeated.” The furthest one toyed with her gloves, lips curling faintly again.

Ayre lowly hummed, getting the thinly veiled message. “That’s quite the generous offer.” A faint tinge of pain lit up her left palm, the Inquisitor hiding it behind her back. Could they see the glow, even through her glove? Hopefully not…

“The Empress believes wholeheartedly that the Inquisition is our best hope for peace in these difficult times.” The middle woman spoke once more, nodding subtly to her.

“She looks forward to cementing a… formal alliance.”

“As soon as Gaspard is out of the way.” The last woman softly whispered, just loud enough for Ayre to catch.

“But, we have taken enough of your time.” They curtsied again, the middle woman smiling openly.

“Please, enjoy the masquerade, Inquisitor.”

Bowing once more, Ayre was caught surprised when one of the ladies-in-waiting lingered. “Empress Celene prefers her tea black, if you get the chance.”

“Strange… I always assumed from her sweet voice that she preferred it steeped in  _ honey _ .” Ayre had no idea where that memory came from, but here it was all the same.

“Ah, you are quite astute, Inquisitor… Well done.” The woman bowed her head, departing with a wave of her fingers.

Prideful, the Inquisitor mulled over the previous conversations. Gaspard was no doubt against Celene, so what could he truly gain by also targeting Briala? There had to be a link between the two that ran further…

The guest garden hosted a lute player, one of several around the Winter Palace she was sure. The tune was rather pleasant but she ignored him to wander past.

Her eyes were rather glued to that trellis… She could climb it, no doubt with ease. Dorian was watching her, probably had since those three ladies-in-waiting. He caught her gaze towards the patterned wood and gave a smirk, encouraging.

Glancing this way and that over her shoulder, Ayre climbed up the trellis without anyone noticing. At least, she hoped no one noticed.

“Why…?” Josephine glanced out the window to catch the act, shaking her head as she returned to the ballroom.

Reaching the top, Ayre immediately hunkered down to avoid being spotted before she stood. “Blood…” The trail led to a door to the left where she had climbed up, though it seemed quite odd. A little statuette she had picked up fit into the slot allowed, and it clinked open.

Stepping inside, Ayre covered her nose with a grimace. Three bodies, dead. One had a letter, and she carefully plucked it to avoid getting dirty. “Seems there is something deeper between Celene and Briala after all…”

Retreating, and being sure to close the door, Ayre was glad she wore gloves for more than one reason. Backtracking to the trellis, the blood also led to the door exactly opposite.

“Hm, the Grand Library. What an odd place, though I suppose the main entrance is actually inside the palace… If you had to climb a trellis to reach the books, there would be much lesser academics, or stronger ones.”

Ayre roamed the library, though truly nothing seemed out of odds. Did the blood lead here, or start? She resorted to pulling books; gently and not out of place, but one at a time. When one actually worked, she jumped as a bookcase slid to reveal a doorway.

An office… She doubted it was Celene’s. Wandering further in, she noticed a letter unfolded and ready to be read. Remembering how it was laid, Ayre picked it up to read.

“Lady M, I need you at my side tonight…” Brows furrowing, the Inquisitor hummed softly. Perhaps this was her occult advisor? Leliana seemed so… wary of the woman.

At noticing the veilfire, the bell for the ballroom attendees to return rung. “I should get back, but…” She was curious, damn it. Taking the torch, she returned to the small statuettes lining the library main room. She could figure this puzzle out, no?

Not statuettes, these were urns… She lit them all in the order followed, wondering whether she was hurting any ashes. The last was Florian’s, and the Inquisitor gave a soft chuckle. “With this grotesque little puzzle, I wouldn’t want to be named after him.”

The puzzle opened a stairway from beneath the floor, and she descended to find a room with covered furniture and chests. Quite a treat for a nosy rogue…

Back up the way she came, another bell rung. “That would be the second bell, fashionably late it is.” When they had arrived in the town to change, Josephine had commented that being fashionably late was better than arriving on time…

At least she was playing the Game well… She hoped.

Approaching the door to the Grand Ballroom, Ayre was stopped by an enchanting accented voice. “Well, well… What have we here?”

Instantly intrigued, the Inquisitor turned to witness a stunning woman descending the marble steps. Immediately, she became wary as well as curious; Anyone who could capture attention so adamantly and easily should be closely watched.

Though, perhaps her fade-touched gaze should not have traveled so far down a crimson velvet neckline…

“The leader of the new Inquisition, fabled Herald of the Faith.” It was not a question, but a statement. Obviously this woman would know who she was, but it seemed based more on just her appearance here.

Ayre drew closer, her boots muted in their steps whereas this woman’s heels struck the floor with purpose.

“Delivered from the grasp of the Fade by the hand of Blessed Andraste herself.” The voice dipped into sarcasm, and Ayre was laid witness to the full-figure of the woman. A mage, no doubt… Celene’s occult advisor, then.

She was damned beautiful. The Inquisitor struggled not to immediately blush, though felt her ears grow dark. Dark gold traced every inch of her features, unblinking and quite intruding.

“What could bring such an exalted creature here to the Imperial Court, I wonder? Do even you know?” The woman tilted her head, a magnificent smirk on painted lips.

How she wanted to engage this woman more, but-

“I’m here on important business concerning the entire Empire.” Ayre crossed her arms, careful not to disrupt her crimson sash.

“As am I, it seems.” The woman bowed her head, the Inquisitor realizing she had pleased her, albeit momentarily. “I am Morrigan. Some call me advisor to Empress Celene on matters of the Arcane.” The mage strode past her, not glancing back.

Ayre followed, intrigued even more so. Not a mage, was she? She was… a witch?

“You… have been very busy this evening; Hunting in every dark corner of the palace.” With a sultry sidelong glance, Morrigan smirked. Ayre felt her cheeks darken moreso against her will. Did the elder know she had even searched her office?

As they strode through the nobles, the Inquisitor noticed not all stares were sent her way. Morrigan gathered a fair share of them as well, and no doubt the both of them being seen together was quite… shocking.

“Perhaps you and I hunt the same prey?” Morrigan stilled by a railing, turning slowly towards the Inquisitor. Leaning against the railing casually, the redhead trailed a finger along the decorated stone.

“I hope so. I could use another ally here.” Ayre spoke after a moment, lifting her gaze back to the witch’s.

“A sentiment I share, considering recent events.”

Cocking a brow, the rogue forgot her place only momentarily. “Recent events?”

Beckoning the Inquisitor to follow once more, Morrigan took slow and precise steps. “Recently I found, and killed, an unwelcome guest within these very halls. An agent of Tevinter.”

Morrigan turned on a dime, catching Ayre off her guard once more. The rogue stopped before the two could be intimately close, and froze. It seemed Morrigan liked to toy…

“So I offer you this Inquisitor: A key found on the Tevinter’s body.” Offering it over, the witch watched her closely.

Ayre took it, fingertips of her glove brushing Morrigan’s palm as she accepted the key. Pleased, the elder began to speak once more, moving closer even still.

“Where it leads, I cannot say. Yet if Celene is in danger, I cannot leave her side long enough to search. You can.”

“You left Celene alone? Is that wise?” Worry tinged the rogue’s accented voice, and made Morrigan smile if temporarily.

“I must return to her anon, but she is safe enough… For the moment. ‘Twould be a great fool who strikes at her in public, in front of all her court and the Imperial guard…”

Ayre mulled that over, agreeing with a nod. “What’s your interest in protecting Empress Celene? Are you her bodyguard, perhaps as well?”

Surprise amusement shown clear for Morrigan, the witch letting out a small laugh. “Do I seem a bodyguard to you?” Sobering, she spoke seriously. “If anything were to happen to Celene, eyes would first turn to her  _ occult advisor _ . Even if they knew otherwise.”

Well, that was certainly true.

“Sharks are in the water, and I will not fall prey to them. Not now, not ever.”

“You are strong.” Ayre whispered softly, surprising herself. Her tone made Morrigan quirk a brow; was the Inquisitor confessing that she herself was weak?

“Why did you kill the agent?” The rogue immediately changed the subject, voice growing back to confident, and flirty. “He might have had useful information.”

“I would not have slain the man on sight, had he not attacked me first.” Morrigan sighed gently. “Why? Undoubtedly I caught him in an illicit act. I did not know from whence he came until after the battle, and regret only that I could not capture him alive.”

“What intentions the Imperium has here I suspect you know far better than I.”

Unsure of whether that were true or not, Ayre lifted a hand to cup her jaw. She tapped with her thumb against the side of her chin, contemplating. “If you truly want answers, help me find them?”

“I already told you: I must return to protect the Empress. Proceed with caution, Inquisitor… Enemies abound, and not all of them aligned with Tevinter.” Morrigan led her again to another door, turning to face her and take the rogue’s hand.

“What comes next will be most exciting.” The witch gained a dark smile, bowing her head as the Inquisitor escorted her through. 

Now, she needed to gather her party, and-

“Inquisitor Trevelyan…” Another accented voice distracted her, Morrigan striding off as Ayre was approached. “We met briefly. I am Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons. Welcome to my party.” The woman curtsied, expecting a grand reply, no doubt.

In a hurry, Ayre cleared her throat and bowed in return. “Is there something I can do for you, your Grace?” She desperately needed to corral the others…

“Indeed you can.” Florianne stepped backwards, draping herself against a column. Ayre had no choice but to follow suit, biting the inside of her cheek. “I believe tonight you and I are both concerned by the actions of… a certain person.”

Florianne pushed herself towards Ayre, and the rogue wondered briefly if she was drunk. “Come, dance with me. Spies will not hear us on the dance floor.”

She hadn’t even danced with Josephine yet- Wait! She needed to convene with her party, but there was no way out of this. “I am already taken, your Grace.”

“Your lover has nothing to fear. This is business, not pleasure.”

“Very well… Shall we dance, your Grace?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Unable to escape, Ayre was led towards and onto the dance floor. Time to put those lessons to the test, and desperately hoped she remembered the steps with all the treachery abound.

The music began to play, and Ayre dreadfully led Florianne into the center of the floor. At least this was one of the slow paced dances…

“You are from the Free Marches, are you not? What do you know about our little war?”

“It doesn’t matter where you’re from, your Grace.” Ayre smirked softly, not about to lose any approval at this point. “Everyone knows what’s happening in the Empire.” She took a step forward, leading the dance to start.

“I…” It seemed Florianne did not expect that. “I often forget about the world outside the Imperial Court. It took great effort to arrange tonight’s negotiations, yet one party would use this occasion for blackest treason… The security of the Empire is at stake.”

Ayre turned to face Florianne as the Grand Duchess did the same, the two beginning their separate dance. “Neither one of us wants to see it fall.”

Florianne curtsied as Ayre bowed deeply, contemplating the elder’s words. “Do we both want that, Lady Florianne?” The Inquisitor rose, tucking one hand on her hip and clasping the other to the blonde’s. They switched hands as they swayed, the music light and happy.

“I hope we are of one mind on this.”

“In times like these-” Ayre twirled Florianne under her arm, bringing herself flush to the Grand Duchess’ back. “It’s hard to tell friend from foe, isn’t it, your Grace?”

“I know you arrived here as a guest of my brother Gaspard, and have been everywhere in the palace.” Florianne pulled her close and Ayre took the lead one more, calculated and light steps drawing them even closer.

“You are a curiosity to many, Inquisitor, and a matter of concern to some.”

As they twirled along with the other couples, Ayre hummed lowly in her throat. “Am I the curiosity or the concern to you, your Grace?”

“A little of both, actually.” Florianne’s voice lowered, as if this had steered towards pleasure instead of business. “This evening is of great importance, Inquisitor. I wonder what role you will play into it; Do you even yet know who is friend and who is foe? Who in the court can be trusted?”

“If I’ve learned anything, your Grace… It is to put my trust, in no one.” Ayre led Florianne under her arm once more, voice low and serious. The dance was winding into its final act, and Ayre noticed a few of the invited guests, watching them exclusively. One of the ladies-in-waiting waved happily, causing a small smile.

“In the Winter Palace, everyone is alone. It cannot have escaped your notice that certain parties are engaged in dangerous machinations tonight.” Florianne’s lips were at her ear, voice for the Inquisitor only.

It dawned on Ayre that they were the only ones dancing still; the crowd having dispersed to highlight them. “I thought dangerous machinations were the national sport in Orlais.” The Inquisitor answered in turn, winding Florianne along the dance floor.

Ah, the end of the dance was nigh. The rogue led the Grand Duchess into a dip, holding strongly with one hand tucked to the small of her back; the other flourished out at her side.

Applause and gasps broke out, Ayre sure that her dancing skills were at least acceptable if not charming.

“You have little time.” Florianne whispered as she was pulled back up, Ayre escorting her once more towards the stairs. “The attack will come soon, you must stop Gaspard before he strikes. In the royal wing garden, you will find the captain of my brother’s mercenaries. He knows all Gaspard’s secrets.”

“I’m sure you can persuade him to be forthcoming.” The two faced each other once more, the Grand Duchess curtsying as the Inquisitor bowed.

“We’ll see what the night has in store, won’t we?” Ayre answered, a ghost of a smirk on her lips as she turned to leave the floor, and Florianne.

It seemed the Grand Duchess made to follow her, but changed her mind in a dramatic flourish that left onlookers chuckling. Ayre glanced over her shoulder in a charmed narrow of her gaze, having suspected something darker.

She had spoken with Gaspard, and Celene… She needed to find Briala. The Inquisitor glanced towards where Leliana was perched, remembering her duty at present.

The elven Ambassador would have to wait until she investigated the servants quarters…

Throughout their separate holdings at Halamshiral, the Inquisitor managed to rally her party together quite discretely. That may have been Cassandra’s doing, as the Seeker gave the Empress’ ladies-in-waiting a subtle nod.

“Inquisitor?” Ayre had paused, knuckles resting against a decorated door. Cassandra had spoken, jarring her from her statuesque posture.

“Leliana spoke to me, just before this. I am simply… mulling over what she said.” Ayre lied cooly, giving a soft smile to the Seeker. “It is not without great bravery that we do what must be done, tonight. Whatever it will be.”

“I… Yes, of course.” Cassandra bowed her head, a little surprised at the mature attitude. Perhaps this was just a front; there were still guests within the area, not in earshot of course.

“Past this door, pretend to have a dignified look around. When I call you, please come to me.” The door was open, had been opened for some time. At her party’s acknowledgement, Ayre entered the corridor.

Immediately a trophy room off to the left caught her attention. “Locked… whatever for, I wonder?” Ayre tried the door again, certain that she could break in. It was just a curiosity right now, however… When it became a devouring need, then she would distract herself with it.

For now- Whispering caught her ears, fade-touched glance sharp on two elves in the corner, far away. Her party had taken her command and fanned out; the Inquisitor approaching the elves from behind a statue to overhear.

Gaining insight, Ayre quirked a grin to herself. She would have been a terrible bard, but a magnificent assassin… If only the thrill of being front and center didn’t exist; The pleasure of those she killed knowing  _ exactly  _  who killed them…

Jarred once more from thoughts more violent than needed, the Inquisitor moved past and idled with more guests and servants as she gathered information.

“Hm… blood…”

_ “He hasn’t made the pickup. It’s been hours.” _

_ “He went into the servants' wing. Nobody’s come out of there all night.” _

There again, the servants' wing. She genuinely needed to look into that, then. She still had the seal she had found around here earlier, when there were fewer people. So many entered that wing, yet none came back?

Drawing back, Ayre gathered her party once more. “We have some looking out to do… follow me.” The Inquisitor cast one look back from whence they came, and into the servants wing they went. Something here was… wrong.

* * *

 

“Ugh! Already bloody bits, and I haven’t even recovered my bow!” Sera grimaced, the murdered corpses before them the first thing witnessed.

“Indeed.” Ayre grimaced, making her way to a decrepit crate. “Leliana’s agents left our gear.” She murmured, brandishing her sharp daggers and tucking them into her boots.

“I suggest keeping the formal attire, and please try to keep clean. I don’t want to march back into that ballroom covered in blood.” The Inquisitor sighed, though Dorian snorted loudly.

“Dear cousin, there’s a spell for that.” He tossed a wink her way, and the redhead had to chuckle.

“Of course, how could I forget? Then, let’s go.”

Brandishing their own weapons, her guests followed. Into the gardens, Ayre stumbled and dropped down; her boots having caught on blood. She would need to be more careful…

“Cousin?”

“Fine… come down here, but be more careful than I was.” The Inquisitor grumbled, standing and rubbing at her shin. She glanced up, noting the body at the fountain. Wait…

“This was no servant. What was he doing here…?”

“That knife in his back-” Cassandra caught up with her, grimacing. “The crest of the Chalons family. Duke Gaspard will answer for this.”

“Time to have a word with the Duke-” Ayre shot her gaze to the left, terrified screaming catching her attention.

“No, no-!” A Harlequin rogue sliced into the back of a fleeing elf, sending that demented grin her way before disappearing into smoke.

“Two can play that game, wretch.” Ayre’s eyes lit with rage, one not born nor bred in this moment. Crushing a capsule underfoot, the Inquisitor vanished herself.

“Venatori agents!” Cassandra shouted, steeling Sera to send a volley of three arrows into the midst of them.

The Inquisitor hunted the Harlequin, growing steadily angrier. “The Venatori were watching us, they’re organized.” She had found nothing, and grimaced once the agents were dead, and she cast off her cover.

“Follow me, stick close, eyes sharp.”

They needed to find that damned man…

“More, here!” Cassandra charged forward into three of them, one catching Ayre’s dagger in his eye.

“Less, there.” The Inquisitor quipped, the agents being dealt with quickly. “Where did that bastard go…? Waste no time, strike to kill. I fear this is a grand distraction.” Ayre advised, glaring as they made their way deeper.

“I think we need to enter the maze, Inquisitor…”

“I could burn it.” Dorian excitedly grinned, though Ayre only chuckled.

“You would risk the Empress sending the Inquisition the bill. I don’t need Josephine busier than her normal tasks… Into the maze we go.”

It was less of a maze and more a fanciful stroll. “They can’t even do these right.” Ayre mumbled to herself, stepping out of the end. “There, more agents…”

They caught these agents unawares, and a quick death followed for them.

“The blood leads into the Grand Apartments…” Ayre stepped into the lit corridor, feeling warmth hit her from the biting winter. “More agents no doubt inside-”

“Inquisitor, I cannot condone you coming along further.” Cassandra grasped her arm, leading Ayre aside.

“Excuse me?” The younger woman cocked a coal-lined brow, but the stern look melted at the Seeker’s concern.

“This is a distraction, but it’s not to strike at the Empress. I fear this is a trap, for you.” Cassandra started, her speech halting in a way not natural to the warrior.

“It is… one thing for Orlais to lose its Empress; they have other leaders waiting in the wings, but the Inquisition-!”

“Cassandra Pentaghast.” Ayre sharply interrupted, voice grave and low. “Our duty here is to protect Empress Celene. If I die, then I die. Just because… the Inquisition will live on;  _ can _ live on without me. I know it will, and I know you will find a way to close the Breach and defeat Corypheus if I do die.”

“Tonight, is not about protecting me.” Ayre steeled Cassandra, clapping her on the shoulders. “It’s about the Empress.”

“...Yes, Inquisitor. Forgive me, I only… We will get through this, all of us.” The Seeker proudly nodded, following in.

They stormed the Grand Apartments and into the upper halls, one bedroom in particular holding a nasty amount of blood once they were done. “Ugh.” Sera snorted, leaning into an odd section of wall only for it to fall away.

“A safe?” Ayre cocked a brow, stepping in. There laid a locket; elven, one she swiftly took before the others noticed.

“Well, let’s continue… Need to find that Harlequin and hurry back…” Into another corridor, agents filled it to the brim.

“Shit… Kill them all.” Ayre ordered, slinging another dagger. It penetrated the back of one man’s skull, killing him instantly.

As the other three charged in, she retrieved it with a wry smirk. “The Free Marches belong to the free, and the Red to the dead…”

One agent began to flee, but was struck back and tossed by the blow. “Fancy meeting you here.” A woman’s accented voice called, an elf approaching from a corner.

“Shouldn’t you be dancing, Inquisitor? What will the nobility say?” The sarcasm was thick…

“Ambassador… We meet again.” Ayre bowed grandly, despite the blood covering the floor.

“Your reputation for getting results is well deserved.” Briala muttered, almost dryly. “You cleaned this place out. It will take a month to get all the Tevinter blood off the marble.”

“It would have taken longer to get out the beautiful Empress’, I assure you.” Ayre warned, stepping closer to the Ambassador. She gestured the others stay back, wanting to be alone with Briala.

The elven woman visibly bristled, though out of jealousy for the small jab or worry…

“I came down to save or avenge my missing people, but you’ve beaten me to it.” She spoke again, turning on heel to meet Ayre’s eyes. The silver of her mask reflected the Inquisitor’s face, and she became minutely distracted. With the glint of moonlight, her reflection looked like the Envy demon from Therinfal Redoubt…

“So… the Council of Heralds’ Emissary in the courtyard… that’s not your work, is it?”

“He was dead when I arrived… Trust me, I have no plans of trying to rule Orlais. Far too much work for my sake, I think.” Ayre tossed in a smirk, but Briala only stiffened at the idea.

“I expected as much.” Briala relaxed finally, giving her a once over. “You may have arrived with the Grand Duke, but you don’t seem to be doing his dirty work.”

“I knew he was smuggling in Chevaliers, but killing a Council Emissary? Bringing Tevinter assassins into the palace?” Briala shook her head, crossing her arms with a sigh. “Those are desperate acts. Gaspard must be planning to strike tonight.”

“I believe he plans to strike more than just Celene.” Ayre agreed, tilting her head. “For so many who yet cling to life, they would destroy their one chance of the world not being swallowed by demons.” The Inquisitor sighed, brushing crimson locks from her face.

Briala caught her scars, worry igniting but she hid it, as she knew to do. The Inquisitor was hurt, or had been…

“At any rate, the Empress needs to know what’s going on.” Ayre finished, raising her head to meet Briala’s eyes.

“You can try to warn her, she won’t believe anything from me.” There was hurt in the Ambassador’s voice, a tone Ayre recognized.

“I misjudged you, Inquisitor. You might just be an ally worth having… What could you do with an army of elven spies at your disposal? You should think about it.” Briala imparted, giving a faint smirk.

“I would consider such an alliance.” Ayre murmured, hearing Cassandra stiffen at the doorway.

“We can help each other, Inquisitor. We are both outsiders here, after all.” Briala moved closer, Ayre watching her like a hawk.

“I know which way the wind is blowing. I’d bet coin that you’ll be part of the peace talks before the night is over.” The elven woman’s voice at her ear, lips brushing over the shell teasingly. “And if you happen to lean a little bit our way? It… could prove advantageous to us both. Just a thought.” With that, Briala was gone and left the Inquisitor reeling.

“More politics and double-dealing. Is there anyone here who is not corrupt?” Cassandra scoffed, grasping Ayre’s arm.

“It’s the Game, lovely Seeker. Everyone plays it here.” Dorian huffed, shaking his head.

“It has been a long time since I was forced to play.” The redhead admitted, easing out of Cassandra’s grip with a nod. “However, I will let no one force my hand. We will win this Game…”

The first bell rung, summoning others back to the ballroom. “For now, let’s return… see what else is in store.”

* * *

 

Damn her curiosity. Three decorated men stood by the trophy room’s door, and she just had to wander close.

“Is it true what they say? You’re the Inquisitor, are you not?” One gaped at her, evident even through his grand mask. “We’ve heard stories of your accomplishments.”

Ayre smirked softly, cocking a hip to the side. “I’d wager I have better tales than anything you’ve heard.”

“I told you, Philippe!” One man hushed, shifting excitedly.

“Not everyone fights an Archdemon and lives to tell. It’s an inspiration.”

She needed these men to  _ go _ . Ayre hummed softly, stepping closer as if she had a secret. “If you’d like, Commander Cullen can give you all the details of that battle. He’s in the ballroom.”

“Really…? But, I shouldn’t leave my post…”

“Oh, come now. You’d only be gone a moment.” Ayre insisted, smiling coyly.

“Philippe… The world is coming to an end. If we don’t hear the story now, we’ll never have a chance.” The older man spoke, grim and distraught at the thought.

Now  _ that _ was a good ally.

“You’re right! Thank you, Inquisitor. Let’s go.” Philippe corralled the others, leaving the trophy room unguarded.

“Why did you-?” Cassandra snorted with faint derision as her question was answered in the form of Ayre opening the door.

“I am curious.” The Inquisitor defended herself, immediately drawing the other three in. “The things in here-”

“We see them in our ventures. Alive, at that.” Cassandra shut the door, sighing.

“They don’t live for long!” Sera smirked, ribbing the Seeker. “Especially not those bears-”

“They are dangerous.” Cassandra defended herself, balking when Ayre opened yet another door.

“Inquisitor, we should-”

“I’ve found orders.” Ayre interrupted, voice cold and stern. “For that man, Philippe. Gaspard wanted him to move in on the western wing… He must be planning to truly strike tonight.”

“All the more reason to return to the ballroom.” Cassandra reasoned, and the second bell rang.

“And we shall, fashionably late.” Ayre smirked, taking the orders with her. “Let us return, hm?”

“All eyes will be on you the moment you stride in, you know. Your dance with Grand Duchess Florianne left some people wondering.” Dorian spoke softly as they drew back, the music playing slow yet happily.

“Wondering?”

“Well, yes. Ever since your public duel for Josephine, you’ve been seen as a very passionate Inquisitor. The guests have noticed you have yet to dance with her.” Dorian didn’t mean to insult, but Ayre flinched as if he had.

“I had thought the same, before accepting the invite from Florianne. I owe Josephine quite the dance, now.” The Inquisitor sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, speaking of, here comes our lovely Ambassador now.”

Josephine made her way to them, a smile upon her lips. “You’ll be the talk of the court for months. We should take you dancing more often…” She glanced at the other three, and suddenly they were alone.

Ayre smirked, taking Josephine aside to a column; one gloved hand braced against it. “It’s a relief to do something other than fight demons and horrors.” The redhead agreed, closing her eyes when the Antivan cupped her cheek.

“Oh, my love… You still face demons and horrors, these ones are simply better dressed.” The elder teased, thumb stroking a strong jawline.

“Were you  _ dancing _ with Duchess Florianne, or have I simply gone mad?” Leliana interrupted, Cullen hot on her heels.

“More importantly, what happened in the servants’ quarters? I heard there was fighting.” Cullen seemed nonplussed by the dancing, giving a faint nod.

“I hope you have good news, my love. It appears the peace talks are crumbling.” Josephine sighed, shaking her head.

Ayre sighed, crossing her arms. “Morrigan helped me get into the servants’ quarters, where I found a group of Venatori… and Gaspard’s dagger.”

“The man would truly do anything to become Emperor- wait, Morrigan?” Leliana almost balked, cocking a brow. “She told you her name?”

“She did, she seemed quite taken with me.” Ayre grinned, hearing Josephine chuckle at her side.

“Then the attack on the Empress  _ will  _ happen tonight.” Cullen sighed, cupping his brow.

“Warning Celene is pointless; She needs these talks to succeed, and to flee would admit defeat.” Josephine hummed to herself, gaze finding Ayre once more.

“Then perhaps we should let her die.” Leliana coldly whispered, eyes sharp on the Inquisitor. Her fellow redhead seemed to almost mull the idea over, even as the other two advisor’s balked. Interesting…

“I like where this is going.” Ayre eventually agreed, Josephine gasping.

“ _ I  _ don’t! If Corypheus succeeds-”

“What Corypheus wants is chaos. Even with Celene alive, that could still happen.” Leliana explained, watching the Inquisitor. To foil his plan, the Empire must remain strong.  _ Someone _ has to emerge victorious.”

“And it doesn’t need to be Celene. She’s right.” Cullen agreed, the two of them making Josephine bristle.

“Do you realize what you’re suggesting, Leliana?” The Antivan hushed over, giving Ayre an incredulous glance as well.

“Sometimes the best path is not the easiest one.” Leliana imparted, glance switching from Josephine to the Inquisitor. Those fade-touched eyes were very far, somewhere not in the conversation. Just what was Ayre thinking…?

“Darling, surely you’re not-”

“I can’t decide this. Not yet.” Ayre interrupted Josephine, yet had not seemed to have heard the elder at all. Her eyes still held a heaviness that did not belong in this moment.

“You must! Even inaction is a decision, Inquisitor.” Leliana roughly protested, seemingly wanting to goad a reaction.

“You could speak to Celene in the ballroom, but she won’t act. Not without proof.” Josephine gently touched Ayre’s forearm, stroking the deep sable fabric.

“If Gaspard is guilty, he’ll admit nothing. If he’s innocent, he knows nothing. We need the truth.” Cullen sighed, picking at his jacket once more. It really did need to be let out…

“What did Duchess Florianne tell you?” Leliana seemed calmed, though still attentive.

“She said Gaspard’s mercenary captain is in the Royal wing. That he knows about the assassination.” Ayre glanced between the three of them, finally straightening up.

“Which could be a trap.” Cullen pointed out, face stern.

“Or a lead.” Josephine picked up, smirking softly once more. “Either way, you should search the private quarters in that wing for clues.”

“Then get me access, my love; Cullen, get your soldiers into position.” Ayre ordered, the commander snapping to attention.

“At once. Be careful, Inquisitor.” The man warned, edging away from the group.

Josephine nodded, giving Ayre another smile before she too departed. Leliana was the last to leave her sight, a crucial eye on the Inquisitor.

Ayre couldn’t help be feel suspect; was the Spymaster upset that she had spoken with Morrigan to such detail?

Shaking her head, the rogue put it out of her mind. “Come, we go to the royal wing.” Ayre ordered, Cassandra at the ready while Sera had to be tugged from the biscuits.

“There’ll be more, right?” The elf asked, pockets stuffed with them. Seeing that, Ayre chuckled softly and snagged one for herself.

“All you can eat, so I hear.” The redhead teased, leading them towards the door. “Please be discrete.”

“As if.” Sera snickered, following and leaving crumbs.

* * *

“This place almost reminds me of the Grand Library…” Ayre admired one of the strong statues, hearing Cassandra snort.

“When did you visit the Grand Library? You have been sneaking too much.” The Seeker glowered, disapproving slightly. “You could have been taken, or killed.”

“Not without a very loud fight, I assure you.” The Inquisitor bumped her hip playfully, smirking.

Huffing, Cassandra followed their leader up the stairs. There were strange noises, and she almost thought to take her sword until she heard a moan. Face absolutely red, she stormed forward and away from that particular door.

Ayre smirked at her, about to make a lewd tease when there was a scream.

“Stay back!” The sound of broken glass spurred the Inquisitor, and she shouldered a door open.

A fallen elf woman cowered away from her attacker, crying out as a dagger missed her by a hair. It was that same Harlequin that had been in the gardens!

Anger surged her, and Ayre stormed into the room. Catching the Venatori rogue off-guard, the Inquisitor bodily kicked him out the open window. They were quite a few floors up… No doubt he was dead.

“Inquisitor!” Cassandra gawked, rushing to the window to peer down. He was definitely dead.

“Oh, thank you…” The woman sighed out, catching her breath as Ayre knelt by her side.

“Are you alright?” Looking the elf over, it appeared she wasn’t harmed at all. Strange…

“I… I don’t think I’m hurt.” Being helped up by the Inquisitor, the woman rolled her shoulder. “No one was supposed to be here! Briala said… I shouldn’t have trusted her.”

“Briala told you to come to this wing of the palace?” Ayre cocked a brow, confused. The Ambassador was trying to save her people, so why order this one to death…?

“Not personally.” The elven woman huffed. “The  _ Ambassador _ can’t be seen talking to the servants. We get coded messages at certain locations, but the order came from her.”

Brushing herself off, she continued. “She’s been watching the Grand Duke all night. No surprise she wanted someone to search his sister’s room.”

Ayre regarded her for a moment, nodding. “Is there anyone else who knows the code and the drop location who could have written those orders?”

“I… I don’t know.” The elf looked aghast at the thought. “Any of us could do it, but… No. No one else would send me here. It had to be Briala.”

“Mm… so, this room belongs to Grand Duchess Florianne?” With a Venatori agent inside… interesting.

“It used to. This had been her private room in Halamshiral since she was a child. But… this part of the palace was damaged, and the royal family moved to the guest wing.”

“...What were you looking for, in here? What did the message tell you to look for?” Ayre seemed confused, more so than when they had arrived.

“The message didn’t say! I should have known it was a setup.” The elf sighed, distraught once more.

“This wing is sealed… how did you get in?” Cassandra asked, putting herself between them.

“...Easy. The door was unlocked. One of the others probably handled it.”

“Apparently, it takes great courage to come to the royal wing unarmed.” Ayre quipped, the elven woman laughing softly.

“It’s not  _ courage _ to blindly follow Briala’s orders into a trap. I knew her… before. When she was Celene’s pet.” She spat, brows furrowing. “Now she wants to play revolution. But I remember… She was sleeping with the Empress who purged our alienage!”

The Inquisitor stared, slightly shocked. So perhaps Briala had set this woman up… “Would you be willing to testify to that, if I asked?”

“Absolutely.” Anger faded, replaced once more by fear. “If… If the Inquisition would protect me, I’ll tell you everything I know about our  _ Ambassador _ .”

“Go to the ballroom and find Commander Cullen. He’ll keep you safe.” Ayre promised, nodding to Cassandra as the Seeker checked the halls for other enemies.

“...thank you. Maker protect you, Inquisitor!” The woman fled once the coast was deemed clear.

Ayre sighed, rubbing at her brow. This was a lot to think about…

“Come, we’ve much more to explore.” The Inquisitor exited the room after a moment, cocking her head.

“I hear… shouting.” Dorian had his head cocked the same way, and Cassandra wondered if it was familial.

“So do I, coming from over here?”

“You painted Orlesian assholes! When I get out of here, I’ll butcher you like the pigs you are!” The man shouted, a darkened corridor leading to a door.

“What’s that about?” Ayre murmured, the group storming through.

Immediately, the Inquisitor froze as a dozen archers turned their bows on her. It seemed Cullen had been correct; this was a trap…

She held her hands out to stop the others from approaching, but it was too late. They were all trapped, at someone’s mercy.

“Inquisitor! What a pleasure; I wasn’t certain you’d attend.”

That was-

“You’re such a challenge to read; I had no idea if you’d taken my bait.” Florianne smirked, striding atop a balcony. Ayre hid a hand behind herself, noting the putrid emerald of a rift nearby.

“I fear I’m a bit busy at the moment, if you were looking for a dance partner.” The Inquisitor’s accent shook a bit, at the too obvious betrayal, and the pain from the rift’s proximity.

“Yes, I see that. Such a pity you did not save one final dance for me.” Florianne gave a dramatic sigh as if it were truly a loss. “It was kind of you to walk into my trap so willingly. I was so tired of your meddling.”

Ayre eyed the archers, noting how they strengthened their stances. Only she was targeted, and she was certain there was no dodging their arrows. But, that rift… she could open it, and distract them with demons…

“Corypheus insisted that the Empress die tonight, and I would hate to disappoint him as you have.” Florianne smirked, though Ayre cocked her head.  _ She _ had disappointed Corypheus…? That was an odd way of putting her victories over him.

“Why kill the Empress? What does Corypheus want to achieve?” Ayre spat, taking a step. One arrow was shot at her feet, stopping a mere inch from one boot.

“Celene’s death is a stepping stone on the path to a better world.” Florianne explained with a flourish. “Corypheus will enter the Black City and claim the Godhood waiting for him. We will cast down your useless Maker and usher in a united world, guided by the hand of an attentive God.”

“...No. If the Maker is cast out, I would take his place.” Ayre smirked softly to herself, a sharpness in fade-consumed eyes. “It is I who will take the very Fade into the Black City and ignite it with Gold once more.” The Inquisitor spoke, louder as she continued. “ _ And so we burned. We raised nations, we raged wars; We dreamed up false Gods, great demons who would cross the Veil into the waking world, turned out devotion upon them, and forgot you. _ ” Ayre recited, spitting it out towards Florianne.

“Seem familiar?”

“Poor dear. You can’t begin to imagine what Calpernia and I have in store.” Florianne gave her a considering look but ultimately shrugged it off. The Inquisitor must be delusional…

At Calpernia’s name, Ayre fumed. That blasted witch had killed her family; her sister…

“And now, I suppose you never will.” Florianne smirked again, chuckling lightly. “In their darkest dreams, no one imagines I would assassinate Celene myself… All I need is to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike.”

Ayre glanced at the rift again, feeling it pull on the mark upon her palm. It pulse, uncomfortable but powerful.

“A pity you’ll miss the rest of the ball, Inquisitor. They’ll be talking of it for years.” The Orlesian woman smirked, ordering for her archers. “Kill her, bring me the marked hand as proof.” Florianne strode off, chuckling. “It will make a fine gift for the Master.”

Ayre glared and immediately acted; Sprinting forward into a tucked roll as the arrows came her way. Cassandra hefted her shield, Dorian and Sera crouched behind her.

There was no way Florianne was going to be allowed to live, after this. No way in Thedas. While her enemies grasped for more arrows, she rose the Anchor. Instead of opening the rift to let demons pour through, the very Fade began to circle inside. The archers scrambled, one having his bow sucked right out of his hands.

“What is the meaning of this?!” One cried, tossing his bow to the ground. He grasped a dagger in his boot, unable to take a step. The rift widened until it split open, encompassing the archers and dragging them all into the Fade.

Ayre smirked softly, and clenched the Anchor; the rift closing and vanishing into nothingness.

“What… the hell was that?” Sera peeked over Cassandra’s shield, gawking at the scene. She had never seen anything like it, and no bloody bits!

“I have absolutely no idea. I think the Fade appreciated my speech.” Ayre chuckled softly, examining the Anchor. It pulsed, stronger than ever and painful just the same.

“Andraste’s Tits, what was all that?!” Oh, right, that man… Ayre stepped over to free him from the pillar, chuckling softly.

“Don’t worry about it… It’s safe.” The Inquisitor assured, and Dorian chuckled softly.

“It’s never safe in Orlais.” He argued, getting an amused snort from Cassandra.

“Maker… I’ve never seen one of those rifts so close before. I knew Gaspard was a bastard, but I didn’t think he’d feed me to fucking horrors over a damned bill!”

“Duke Gaspard lured you out here?” Honestly at this point, Ayre cared little. She wanted to storm into that ballroom… But perhaps there was more here than met the eye.

“Well, his sister, but it had to come from him, didn’t it? All that garbage she was spewing doesn’t mean anything. Gaspard had to be the mastermind.”

Ayre furrowed her brows, crossing her arms as she surveyed the frightened man. “Your accent sounds Ferelden… I thought you were one of Gaspard’s mercenaries?” Her own accent pulled through, clear yet thick.

“Born and raised in Denerim. Seems like I should have stayed there.” He grumbled, adjusting his uniform at the chest. “The Duke wanted to move on the palace tonight, but he didn’t have enough fancy Chevaliers.” He spat, imitating the accent.

“So, he hired me and my men. He had to offer us triple our usual pay to come to Orlais; Stinking poncy cheesemongers…”

Ayre stifled a smirk at that, clearing her throat. “Well, if you want a new job that pays better… The Inquisition could always use a good mercenary company.” Cassandra nodded at her right, guiding the man to his choice.

“You’re hiring? I’m game; Anything’s better than this bullshit.” He brushed himself off again, seeming in higher spirits. “You want me to talk to the Empress, or the court, or sing a blasted song in the Chantry; I’ll do it.”

“Meet us in the ballroom then, but please, save your singing voice.” Ayre instructed, watching him off. “Florianne is about to get one rude awakening… Come, we march.”

Cassandra followed dutifully, only briefly glancing to Ayre in concern. Those comments she had made… Blasphemous, or the Maker speaking through their Inquisitor? She was the Herald of Andraste, after all…

* * *

Gaspard and Florianne shared nods with each other as they met, and strode with all the confidence in Orlais. Ayre hid from sight across the mezzanine, the dance floor abound with couples. That damned woman certainly looked pleased with herself…

The Inquisitor shook off Dorian’s arm, the man attempting to hide her. She strode right to the railing and caught their eyes from across the way. Florianne immediately looked frightened, fidgeting with her hands as Gaspard crossed his arms. They were not happy… Ayre smirked. Good.

“Thank the Maker you’re back…” Cullen pulled her from the encounter, stopping by her side. “The Empress will begin her speech soon. What should we do?”

“Hm… Wait here, Cullen. I’m going to have a word with the Grand Duchess.” Ayre’s brows pulled together, and the Inquisitor shoved past him. She was going to have more than words…

“What? There’s no time, the Empress will begin her speech any moment!”

Ayre ignored him, her party watching her leave for the dance floor. Fire sparked in her eyes, not out of place with how she had looked when afflicted with the Red Lyrium…

Propping one boot on a marble step, the Inquisitor cleared her throat. “We owe the court one more show, Your Grace.” She declared, the music stopping suddenly as her voice echoed in the chamber. The court gasped, many already gossiping.

Florianne swallowed almost nervously, turning with a flourish at the top of the steps. “Inquisitor…”

“The eyes of every noble in the Empire are on us, Your Grace. Remember to smile.” Ayre gained a faint smirk, letting Florianne cower as she climbed step by step. “This is your party… You wouldn’t want them to think you’d lost control.”

“Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?” Florianne badly played, stepping back against the wall even still. Celene watched from the overhang above, one brow cocked beautifully.

“I seem to recall you saying  _ ‘All I needed was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike.’ _ ”

Florianne swallowed roughly, the court abuzz once more.

Ayre clasped her hands behind herself, circling Florianne slowly. “When your archers failed to kill me in the garden-” More gasps, one woman even fainting. “-I feared you wouldn’t save me this last dance.” The Inquisitor paused in her predatory circling, cocking a smirk the elder’s way.

Celene’s gaze intensified, on them both. Just what madness was this, then?

“It’s so easy to lose your good graces, you even framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary…” Gaspard tossed Florianne a disgusted look, shaking his head.

“It was an ambitious plan… Celene, Gaspard, the entire council of Heralds; All your enemies under one roof.” Ayre continued, nearing Florianne. She stood barely a hair from the woman, face to face.

“This… is very entertaining.” Florianne’s voice was shaky, but still confident. “But, you do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories?”

“That will be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin.” Celene finally spoke, glaring down upon Florianne.

Florianne stared up at her cousin, absolutely shocked. “Gaspard?” She turned to face her brother, pleading. “You cannot believe this! You know I would never-”

The Grand Duke sneered and turned up his nose; His back to Florianne as he left her alone.

Guards descended the steps, cornering Florianne with the Inquisitor.

“Gaspard…?!” She called after him, afraid as she backed away. Ayre smiled to her, in that endearing way that made others trust her. Florianne, fearful of the guards, neared the younger when her arms spread to embrace.

“At least this time, justice will be swift.” The Inquisitor smiled, one arm embracing Florianne as the other buried a dagger into her stomach.

The court reacted loudly; gasping while others shouted. This wasn’t at all good public behavior! Josephine covered her mouth, shocked at seeing her beloved do something as brash as this.

Cassandra surged forward, almost tackling Cullen before he stopped her. What if the guards turned on Ayre?!

Leliana narrowed her eyes, breaking the encounter apart. Florianne had seemed truly distressed; The Grand Duchess had obviously been pushed into doing this by Corypheus. They could have granted her mercy, even forgiveness… Why did Ayre deem it fit for her to die, especially at her hand and so publicly?

The Spymaster sighed to herself, worry from before springing back. Ayre had been changed by that Red Lyrium, and its absence had not rendered the end.

Wrenching the dagger from Florianne’s stomach, Ayre watched with pleasure as the woman dropped. Blood coated sable fabric, but she gingerly tucked the dagger away once more. “Your Imperial Majesty, I think we should speak in private. Elsewhere.” She ordered, stepping over the Grand Duchess’ lifeless body.

Blood began to pool beneath the corpse, and the court would indeed be speaking of this for  _ years _ .

* * *

 

“Your sister attempted regicide in front of the entire court, Gaspard.” Briala’s voice held acid, ready to spit.

“You’re the Spymaster. If anyone knew this atrocity was coming, it was you.” Gaspard fired back, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“You don’t deny your involvement.” Briala smirked faintly, the elf chuckling.

“I do deny it!” Gaspard shouted, glaring through his mask. “I knew nothing of Florianne’s plans! But you… you knew it all and did nothing!”

“Heh… I don’t know which is better; That you think I am all-seeing, or that you’re trying so hard to play innocent and failing-”

“Enough.” Celene stepped between them, the Empress seeming tired of the bickering. Ayre stood before the three of them, patiently dabbing at her sash for the blood.

“We will not bicker while Tevinter plots against our nation! For the safety of the Empire, I will have answers.” She demanded, gazing to the Inquisitor.

“Answers I have, Your Majesty.” Ayre adjusted one of her gloves, keeping the bloodied cloth pressed over her heart. “Gaspard’s captain tells me he was sneaking mercenaries into the palace all night. He intended to attack.”

“And where did your troops come from, Inquisitor?” Gaspard accused the same, scoffing. “If sneaking men into the palace is damning, we are both damned.”

“I have the  _ instructions _ you sent to your General to sneak men into the palace in preparation for an attack.” Ayre glared, crossing her arms.

“It was a defensive choice… I expected betrayal here, just… not by my own sister.”

“By all means, continue to protest your innocence, Gaspard.” Celene interrupted, accent thick and sarcastic beyond all means. “We find this performance endlessly fascinating.”

“There were also the threats Gaspard made to the council of Heralds to bully them into giving him the crown.” Ayre spat, seeming to calm as Briala came to her side. The elven Ambassador caught Celene’s gaze, tending to the Orlesian blood adorning the Inquisitor.

“ _ Gaspard is a bully _ ? Is that the worst you can say of me?” The Grand Duke chuckled lowly, smirking.

“Oh, and his mercenary captain will be happy to tell you all their plans for the coup tonight.” Ayre fired back, and the man lost his mirth quickly.

“Thank you, Inquisitor…” Celene broke her gaze with Briala, glancing only minutely to her cousin. “There can be no doubt of your treason, Gaspard.”

“No… it seems there cannot.” Gaspard glared to Ayre, gritting his teeth.

“In light of overwhelming evidence, we have no choice but to declare you an enemy of the Empire.” Celene finished, clasping her hands together. “You are hereby sentenced to death.”

Gaspard glanced Ayre’s way with the same desperation Florianne had.

The Inquisitor smiled, bowing her head. “The Empress has spoken.” She agreed coldly, amusement written on her expression.

“...Long live the Empire…” Gaspard whispered to himself as the guards took him away in chains.

“Thank you, Inquisitor. For all your efforts tonight.” Celene stepped closer, Briala not having stopped her ministrations. “I owe you my life, and Orlais owes you its future.” Turning on her heel, the Empress beckoned them both back inside.

Out of the bitter winter air, Celene’s cheeks retained their faint rosiness. “You have done a service for the Empire never to be forgotten, my friend… This peace is your doing. You truly are the instrument of Andraste.”

Celene turned more towards Ayre, touching one finger along the back of the rogue’s glove. “Orlais will never forget your part in this, nor will I.”

Approaching the railing of the mezzanine, Celene attracted all attention easily. “Lords and Ladies of the court, the civil war which has plagued us is at an end. The Orlesian Empire is whole again!” The court cheered, tension which had littered the grand ballroom lifting.

“Those who drove us into a war for selfish gain have been dealt with as traitors.” She continued on, gazing towards Ayre at her side. “Gaspard de Chalons is guilty of treason. He is no longer our cousin, and has been sentenced to death.”

Cassandra glanced towards the Inquisitor, watching every muscle twitch out of habit. Was Ayre alright…?

“We have lost enough, no more! Now we can move forward to healing and restoration.” Celene turned towards Ayre, taking her wrist gently. “In our hour of need, the Inquisition has faced these dangers beside us.”

The redheaded rogue smirked faintly, cocking a brow as she stepped closer to Celene’s side.

“It is the honor of Orlais to stand with Andraste’s Herald to end this crisis.” Celene had surprising strength when she tugged Ayre, the Inquisitor led to wrap an arm around the Empress in an almost risque way.

“And in ages to come, our children and grandchildren can say that we left them a brighter world.” The Inquisitor’s cheeks were flush, and she couldn’t help but feel Celene had certainly insinuated that last bit.

As the nobles cheered, Celene whispered to Ayre. “Will you address the court, my friend?”

“Ah-” Ayre cleared her throat, stepping closer to Celene to be comfortable. Her expression schooled into one of concern, and she spoke gravely. “The civil war may have ended, but the fighting has just begun. The battle is far from over.”

“We of the court must use our resources. Not every battle is won on the field.” Celene instructed, nodding. “But, that is tomorrow. Tonight, feast, my friends; enjoy our victory. There will be many more to come!” The Empress rallied her people, smiling as the festivities continued.

Celene finally relented and unhanded Ayre, giving a small chuckle to the Inquisitor’s confusion. “Not a soul is allowed to touch us, Inquisitor. Yet, we may always have each other.” The Empress bowed her head, leaving the younger to her own devices.

As the night’s events caught up with Ayre, the rogue ducked back out onto the balcony. The bitter air reddened her cheeks, and let her catch her breath.

“The Orlesian nobility raise drunken toasts to your victory, and yet you are not present to hear them?” Morrigan’s voice caught her attention, the witch striding towards her side.

“Do you tire so quickly of their congratulations, Inquisitor? ‘Tis most fickle, after all your efforts on their behalf.”

Gaining an impish grin, Ayre chuckled softly. “Everyone suddenly wants to talk to me. You, at least, I’m glad to see.” She winked, the witch noticing something off in her gaze. Strange, it seemed those green eyes had gotten even moreso…

Morrigan, caught off-guard even so, chuckled. “Then I have happy news, as you shall be seeing a great deal more of me.” She straightened up, her voice having a faint disdain. “By Imperial decree, I have been named liaison to the Inquisition.”

Ayre seemed dumbstruck, and Morrigan only pressed further. “Celene wishes to offer you any and all aid- including mine. Congratulations.”

“She is granting you a great gift in return, no?” The Inquisitor finally found her tongue, leaning against the stone railing. “In light of her own curiosity, she realizes we are facing something quite unlike anything anyone has ever seen before…”

“A great gift or no, it is done. You will require my knowledge if you are to defeat such magic.” Morrigan watched her closely, and Ayre was reminded briefly of a cat.

“Morrigan… you hold yourself higher and more mysterious than any mage I’ve ever known. Do you perhaps use blood magic?” Ayre kept her voice low, and her gaze steady.

“I know many obscure, forgotten, and forbidden arts. Some of it you might consider blood magic, yes.” Morrigan kept her gaze just as level, yet did nothing to lower her voice. “Should thought of that frighten you, allow me to offer reassurance: Knowledge alone does no harm. What I possess, I place at your disposal, to make use of or ignore as you desire.”

“Then… Welcome to the Inquisition, Morrigan.” Ayre offered her hand, and the witch only brushed her fingertips across the glove.

“A most gracious response.” Morrigan smiled, bowing her head briefly. “I shall meet you at Skyhold.” With one last smolder of gold, the witch turned to re-enter the palace. Josephine met her at the doorway, watching Morrigan depart before she exited onto the balcony.

“Darling, is everything alright?” Josephine neared Ayre’s side, catching her expression. “You look troubled.” She was suppressing her own emotions, still reeling. After all, the Inquisitor had just  _ killed  _ a noblewoman in front of every noble in the empire! Not to mention, it looked as if she had  _ enjoyed  _ it.

“Things went according to plan, for once.” Ayre smiled, facing Josephine with a bright gaze. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Tonight was a triumph… you should be proud.” If Ayre was happy, then perhaps she was simply over thinking it. Josephine nudged her playfully, smiling. She just couldn’t get the scene out of her head…

“Is there anything I can do? Can I get you anything; a drink, perhaps?” The Antivan smiled, starting to become comfortable once more.

Pushing herself off the railing, Ayre smirked softly. “Would you care to dance with me, Lady Josephine? I feel as if I haven’t had enough time for you, tonight. I would greatly like to amend that.”

Oh, she was still as charming as ever. Josephine blushed, deciding that perhaps for once being so brash was the best choice. “I… would love to, my lady.”

“Out here, privately… At least, just for a moment? I want you to myself before letting the entire court be brokenhearted as they realize you are officially mine.” Ayre smirked, taking Josephine’s hand and gently pulling her in.

“Oh, you are too much…” The elder smiled, resting her head against the Inquisitor’s shoulder. She was exactly too much, and yet perfection all at once.

* * *

 

Leaning against one of the decorated columns, Ayre witnessed the masquerade drawing to a close. She nursed a flute of wine in one glove, the other resting along the railing. Josephine had been taken aside by Yvette after the dance, and the two were now excitedly discussing marriage.

Ayre chuckled, taking a drink as she felt someone approach her side. “Enjoying the view?” Leliana’s voice soothed her nerves, and the Inquisitor hummed softly.

“Better than most, I’m sure. They cleaned up Florianne’s blood rather quickly, I’m surprised. Briala said it would take at least a month to clean blood from marble…”

Leliana was quiet, and spurred Ayre to face her. The younger woman cocked a brow, and only then did the spymaster speak. “You remember, do you not?”

“It didn’t happen very long ago, and I haven’t had much to drink-”

“Not that.” Leliana interrupted, voice clipped and sharp. “You remember what happened that day, with the explosion at the Conclave. I can see it in your eyes.” They had changed; brighter, swirling more with the very Fade. “I know you remember, Ire.”

“Not Inquisitor?”

“I did not call you by your name… I called you by the title given to you. Ire.”

Ayre’s mirth vanished, and the flute in her glove shook.

“I will be returning ahead of the rest of the party. I suggest you prepare for your return, and enjoy yourself now.” Leliana dropped her voice, backing off. “Because when you return, everyone will know  _ exactly _ who, and what, you are.”

* * *

 

**Things are getting quite mysterious... Red Marchers? Ire? What does it all mean? You'll find out... perhaps more than you wished to.**

**Please, read and comment!**


	17. Sin to Heaven

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Sin to Heaven**

* * *

_And So is the Golden City blackened_

_With each step you take in my Hall._

_Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting._

_You have brought Sin to Heaven_

_And doom upon all the world._

* * *

 

Leliana's words played over in her mind; sharp as the dagger pressed into her lower back. Did the Spymaster truly know her darkest secrets? The ones that razed her to the ground with every dreamless wander into the Fade?

Even Morrigan couldn't distract Ayre from her troubles, though the witch's voice was alluringly soothing. The Inquisitor leaned against the lionesque column, gloves taut and sleeves creased as she folded her arms.

"My, my… seems someone has a heavy mind." Morrigan could already see through her tension… "Tis most intriguing; one would think you may grant yourself a moment to relax?"

"Inquisitor?" Josephine's voice was a divine distraction, one that fully immersed Ayre in the present. Verdigris gaze lifting from the stone, the Inquisitor forced a brief smile.

"Forgive me, Morrigan. Once we make way back to Skyhold, I might be more approachable." Ayre chuckled, letting Josephine take her arm. She steered the elder into a private corner, sighing softly. She rose a hand for her temple, fingers tracing the scars there just so. "I am afraid… I have something terrible to tell you."

"Is it… the red lyrium? Has it returned?" Josephine almost brushed crimson back to see, but the younger eased away.

"Nothing such as that, and yet, far worse than if it had." The Inquisitor faced the wall, exhaling shakily.

"My love… you're serious? This is frightening me; please, tell me?" The Antivan gently grasped her arm, finding the faded gaze so much older than before.

"It's about… my past. Before the Conclave."

* * *

 

" _-have brought sin to heaven, and doom upon the world." Knelt before a statue, unruly crimson locks were gently pushed back as a woman stood._

" _If it isn't Andraste herself." A rough voice snickered, getting a playfully dirty look their way. "Why do you still pray, Ayre? You've said yourself that the Maker is just cultish shit."_

" _It is; it's why I left home." Ayre toyed with a dagger, balancing it on a fingertip. "But, know enough of the Canticles, and you'll find yourself between a young Sister's legs with her praying to you."_

" _No wonder the royals kicked you out." The elder man chuckled lowly, shaking his head again. His warpaint was becoming smudged with sweat, and Ayre glanced out the door at his back._

" _Is it burning so well already?" She quirked a brow, passing the man to see for herself._

" _You wanted the town in flames, and flame it shall be." The crying of those unable to escape their homes echoed in the small village, to Ayre's extreme pleasure._

" _It's been a long time since I was so close to the Free Marches." The redhead grinned, glancing skyward. Pale green delighted in the ash raining down, and Ayre set to smearing it along her arms._

" _A message needs to be sent, every once in a while. My family should stop looking for me…" She murmured, crushing a burned skull beneath her feet. "The Red Marchers wouldn't be long without their Ire, would they?"_

" _You know… First time I saw you, I wouldn't have pegged you for someone so twisted." Joining her side again, the elder gruffed. "You were young; Fuck, you still are! Not even two decades and you're on your way to being a warlord."_

" _Don't get sentimental on me." Ayre deadpanned, turning to him. The town square was safest to stand; all else crumbling to flame. She stared out towards where she had been praying, accepting a torch from the man._

" _This world belongs to us, and Ire shall have all." She murmured, tossing the torch into the chantry. Wanted posters were the second to catch fire, the first being the wine-drenched rugs. A visage of her burned last, name forever lost to the ages._

' _Arlessamine Trevelyan; wanted for murder and apostate conspiracy. Alias of Ayre; Ire of the Red Marchers'._

* * *

 

"My love, you-" Cutting herself off, Josephine was beyond shocked. Her peaceful and _merciful_ lover, a… murderer? The entire idea seemed incomprehensible. "I do not believe you. Why would you say these things?"

Ayre sighed, clenching her left hand tight and releasing. Blood rushed to her knuckles, giving them a faint ache. She deserved so much more…

"It's true, Josephine… I used to run with a bandit gang. I used to… _lead_ them. I was well on my path to being a warlord. I suppose in a sense, I am one-" Ayre bit her cheek, the look on the elder's face almost too much to bear.

"We called ourselves ' _The Red Marchers'_. Red for the blood, for the fire… That's where I gained my name; Ayre. It's ire, for anger and hate." The Inquisitor was shaky, a sickly bile rising in her throat. This was the first time since the Conclave that she ever spoke of it. She had hoped she would have never remembered…

* * *

 

" _What's going on here?" She had left for a moment, then suddenly the screaming had started. Ayre burst into the room, seeing the Elder One holding the Divine. Members of her gang were in attendance with the Wardens, yet still they bristled._

_She had come under a condition for her family; To safely escort her cousin during his pilgrimage here. Of course, she had stayed for this…_

_Justinia batted the orb from the Elder One, and it rolled ominously to her. "Bring it to me." He commanded, that tone dark._

_Ayre stared down to it for a moment before her gaze darkened. She was older than she was when she had first fled home, but her intent was the same. No one would control her destiny…_

" _No." She declared, grasping the orb. A great pain overtook her, but her last thought was preserved. 'If anyone shall enter the Black City, it's going to be me.'_

* * *

 

"You weren't trying to save the Divine, you were-" Josephine covered her mouth, glancing around. Thankfully, no one else was near them; the dancefloor in quite a bit of use.

"Trying to take over the world." Ayre finished for her, nodding. "For a split second, I thought I could. Thought I would; that I deserved it…" She ran a hand over her face, sunkissed skin cold as frost.

"Josephine… Leliana has somehow found all of this out. I… tried my damndest to never be associated back to that; back to my younger self. Arlessamine Trevelyan… My family hid everything." She murmured, pinpricks of fear ebbing in.

"They bribed the ones making the posters to just stop. They didn't want the name to get muddied. They let me get away with… with murder for _years_ , all because they didn't want the name _disgraced_." Ayre spat, hitting a column.

Josephine jumped, and suddenly the Inquisitor felt exhausted. She turned to the elder, shame clear in her fade-touched gaze.

"After the explosion, I… truly didn't remember anything about my past. All I knew, or could recall, was my name. I didn't lie." Ayre watched her for a moment, taking a step closer. "It wasn't until that behemoth struck me that I started to remember. Maker, I wish I hadn't…"

"B-but… but that isn't you, anymore-"

"It _was_ me… if it hadn't been for the explosion, it would still be me." Cupping her brow, the Inquisitor shook softly. "I somehow can't believe it, myself. I've tried so hard to be merciful; peaceful. But has that just been an excuse; a sort of diversion from my true nature of violence…?"

Ayre shook her head, raising her gaze to Josephine's. The Ambassador was simply shocked, and brokenhearted. She had fallen for… a murderer. The leader of their Inquisition was once the leader of chaos. Once a warlord…

"...Peace bears a heavy price which must be paid for in blood." Josephine softly murmured, surprising them both.

"Excuse me?" Ayre furrowed her brows, and Josephine took her hands strongly.

"Please, do not say a word of this to anyone else." The Antivan insisted, capturing her gaze. "I will… sort everything out, I swear it. Only Leliana knows, yes?"

"...Yes. With the death of my family, only she knows. I don't know how she uncovered it-"

"It must have been in the records, for your name as well. No doubt she secured them after the- the massacre." Josephine whispered, watching the Inquisitor's eyes mist.

"Josephine… How could you ever forgive me; for what I've done?"

"What you've done and what you're doing now are worlds apart… You were young, and though what you've done is atrocious… I could never hate you. Ayre-" Josephine bit her bottom lip, cupping the younger's cheek. "I love you."

"...I love you too-"

"Presenting to the court, Warden-Commander Parthena Cousland; Hero of Ferelden, and Champion of Redcliffe!"

"What-?" Ayre stared out across the ballroom, catching the noble's eyes for a brief moment. She heard Josephine gasp, and even Celene seemed flustered as she hastened to greet the warrior.

"Such a pleasure that we may have your visage to indulge in, Lady Cousland." The Empress bowed gently, the warden returning it stiffly before she flourished an arm out.

"Empress Celene." Parthena's voice was grave, and yet the hint of a smirk laid just beneath. "It has been far too long." Her hair was held in a loose hold; sable with whispers of silver far beyond her age.

Ayre stared in silence, appearing reverent to those around her. Instead, she was scared to stone. Parthena had the face of a hawk; Sharp and angular, with a jawline that-

Shaking herself loose, the redhead cleared her throat. It was no doubt that Parthena was striking, but she was frightened of her very appearance; of her power…

"The Inquisitor and those of the Inquisition are around; we hope that this isn't a surprise?"

"Not as much as anything else that has happened tonight, so I hear." Parthena parried expertly, chuckling softly. She made her way up the steps, the crowd parting for her easily. She wore an ensemble of silver and gold; done up far more decorated than Ayre's suit. An aiguillette of crimson draped along her left shoulder, a thick longsword not out of place strung along her back.

"My love… I will buy you time. Compose yourself." Josephine whispered, granting Ayre a small kiss. It was clear Parthena had been hoping to catch Leliana; the elder looking around for someone familiar.

"Morrigan? Is that you?" Icy eyes traveled along crimson-velvet, the warden smirking slowly.

"Don't." The witch narrowed golden eyes, but it was clear she had already resigned herself to being teased.

"Even the plunging neckline… Leliana was right. You are striking in that gown." Parthena bowed, kissing Morrigan's hand when it was offered.

"You fool." The witch scoffed, though softened up considerably. "Tis good to see you, well and about like this." She whispered; dark amber catching the silvering of the noble's hair. The life of a warden was never a long one…

"It's good to see you, too. Now, is she here-?"

"Warden-Commander Cousland?" Josephine gingerly interrupted, bowing her head. "I am afraid Leliana has already gone ahead to return to Skyhold."

Parthena visibly deflated, the elder humming in disappointment. "That is a grand shame, Ambassador… but, if you're here, then the Inquisitor still is, yes?"

"Yes, she is, she's-"

"Right here." Ayre forced a charming smile, coming to Josephine's side. Fade-touched green met ice, and she held her breath. Trial by fire, or…?

"Inquisitor Trevelyan…" Parthena held her gaze, harsh features neutral before she spared a small smile. She offered her hand, clasping Ayre's forearm as the younger returned the gesture for gentle shake. "How I've heard of you… I'm glad you're feeling better." She kept it vague, but noticed Morrigan glance her way.

"Leliana wrote me about the recipe for the hangover cure." Parthena lied smoothly, winking to the witch. Morrigan bristled before letting out a slow chuckle.

"I doubt the Inquisitor bedded three Sisters before dusk."

Russet brows quirked, but Ayre stifled a chuckle. "Not as such, no." She glanced to Josephine, giving her a nod. "Warden-Commander, if we could speak in private-?"

"A wondrous idea… I'll be coming to Skyhold with your envoy, at the discretion of Lady Montilyet?"

"Of course, Lady Cousland." Josephine blushed softly, shooing Ayre towards the balcony. The Inquisitor hummed, leading the way out.

She felt something shake her bones when Parthena closed the doors leading back into the palace. For Thedas' sake, she hoped this wouldn't be her last night under the stars.

Ice glanced around before Parthena spoke, her voice lower than inside. "Arlessamine Trevelyan…" She pinned the Inquisitor with her gaze, hands clasped behind her back.

Ayre swallowed hard, attempting to look amused. "Did Leliana send you my name?"

"No." It was clear the elder wasn't playing the Game outside of the palace's walls. "I knew who you were by your face. I remember it… plastered all over the chantry-board in a small village just outside Lothering."

Ayre flinched, wishing she wasn't alone with Parthena. She recalled the positions of her daggers; one at her lower back and one in her boot. If it came down to blows at the Winter Palace…

"So… tell me. What is the Ire of the Red Marchers doing running the Inquisition?" Parthena kept a safe distance between them, though Ayre felt pure animosity radiating from the elder.

"I'm not- that's-" Ayre realised she was shaking, and took a deep breath to calm down. "That isn't who I am, anymore."

"If I had a coin for every time I heard that line…" Parthena trailed off, then scowled. The Inquisitor was obviously terrified, as right she should be. Straightening up, the elder fixed her with a glare.

"...We are the last of our lines, you and I." The warden took a step closer, edging towards the balcony. She rested her hands upon the stone, gazing out towards the snow. "I've heard tales of your heroism; your sacrifices. Through all of that, I knew what you really are-" She paused. "What you were."

The elder glanced to Ayre, gesturing she join her. The Inquisitor shakily laid her hands upon the stone, a few steps from the warden.

"You are no longer that young woman; barely of age and responsible for massacres." Parthena spoke bluntly even as Ayre winced. "Instead, what I see before me… is a woman; touched by the Blessed Andraste herself."

Leaning into the railing to face the Inquisitor, Parthena furrowed her brows. "Thedas needs you, as they once needed me." She spoke, voice low and soulful. "Your past is erased once you become a legend."

"...What about after?" Ayre asked, facing Parthena in turn. She was ashen with fear, so much in her eyes.

The warden smirked softly, a ghost of a scar pulling across her lips. "After… all anyone cares about are the stories. Don't tell the ones that curdle your own gut."

Ayre released a shaky breath, gripping the railing. Parthena stared out over the snow, her glacier gaze colder than the winter around them. "There is one thing I want from you, Inquisitor. Something that will ease your guilt."

"Anything." Ayre promised, shifting to face the elder. Parthena's gaze remained out to the woods, brows pulled tight together.

"It isn't about forgiveness; not even about mercy. Once this is all over… You will be conscripted into the Grey Wardens."

* * *

 

The return to Skyhold was somber; Parthena riding alongside Ayre. The warden-commander had made it quite clear that the Inquisitor wouldn't be out of her sights for some time…

Wondering if Leliana knew that her lover would be coming at all, the Inquisitor looked to the sky. It was raining; had been throughout their return. When snow became slush, it was all she could do not to outwardly complain.

But… seeing Parthena handle it without blinking an eye made her toughen up. They had both faced Archdemons and a possible end of the world, and yet… Only Parthena had actually accomplished something.

The Fifth Blight… During that time, she had just been all but disowned by her family. A few years later, she was wreaking havoc…

"Where will I be able to find Leliana? My gut says the tallest tower." Parthena gruffed a smirk, shaking the Inquisitor from her reverie.

"Yes, the rookery. That's mostly where I find her-" Ayre cleared her throat, sliding from her horse. Josephine was lagging behind, a few carriages down from them both.

"Then I'll be up, soon as I put my horse away. He's old." The warden chuckled lowly, nodding to the younger.

Ayre nodded back, glancing up to the rookery. She needed to find Leliana, before the elder found her.

Bursting through the doors, the Inquisitor bypassed any who sought attention. Nobles and servants alike were brushed off as she strode; Varric smirking at her only to cock a brow as she passed.

"Hmph… She's certainly in a rush. Then again, slaughtering a Grand Duchess in front of the entire court will put a spring in your step." He snickered, focusing back onto his book. It was coming along just fine...

Leliana must not have told anyone about what she had uncovered. Ayre rushed up the stairwell, and gripped the railing as she climbed into the rookery. If she could just _talk_ to the elder…

Ayre stilled, a feeling of dread infiltrating. The rookery was quiet… No agents, nor crows to be found- "N-!" She rose a hand, almost a second too late to catch the rope that quickly wrapped around her neck. Leliana had her in a hold from behind, the elder woman's strength keeping her bound.

"I should have known, at the very least, even suspected once I knew you were a Free Marcher." Leliana spat in her ear, Ayre struggling to keep the rope from completely choking her.

"But to have this proof that _you_ were their leader? I would have never guessed. How foolish of me." Leliana gained the upper hand, wrenching the Inquisitor's arm down and sealing the rope along her throat.

Ayre choked out, gasping as she tried to fight off the grip. Hands clung to the rough rope around her neck, already feeling it dig and make her skin raw. "I-it was… years ago! I never thought that-"

"Save your breath for my questions." Leliana growled, tightening the rope before giving an inch of slack. "Your bandit group helped the Grey Wardens kill the Most Holy. You led it, at a time, or even then still. Yet, your noble line cleaned up anything of it."

The only noise was of the spymaster's voice and their struggle; The rotunda eerily empty. Who could suspect Leliana of murdering their Inquisitor if no one was around to know what happened?

"You're responsible for so many burned villages and murders… Did you really think we wouldn't find out?" Leliana asked, allowing slack again for her answer.

Gasping roughly, the younger woman coughed hard before sputtering. "I was never truly the leader, j-just the face. I was-" The rope tightened again, Leliana clicking her tongue.

"Don't lie to me, _Inquisitor_." The spymaster bit, Ayre's back flush against her front as she gave the rope slack.

"It's… true…" Ayre struggled to breathe, even with the rope slack. Her throat was littered raw and starting to bruise, blood thrumming painfully through. "I am as responsible as the rest-" She choked, copper on her tongue. "-But I never led it, and I wasn't a part of it during the Conclave-"

"My sources say otherwise. Why else would you have been there? You told me, all of us, that your family wouldn't deal with you. Why would you attend the Conclave for their sake?"

"Who're your sources, spymaster? Is Calpernia filling your mind with lies?" Ayre growled, throat tightening as the rope lost all slack. Leliana pulled the rope harshly, making the Inquisitor struggle against her to breathe.

"I will not let you hurt Josephine like this… I know what you are really capable of." Leliana hissed into her ear.

"Who here will really hurt Josephine?" Ayre spat back, gaining leverage against the elder woman. "Just what is she to you, Leliana? A doll to play with, or an ex-lover? An ex-almost?"

"You were at the Conclave to lead the Red Marchers. You killed Divine Justinia-!"

"Leliana, _stop_!" Josephine's voice echoed from the stairwell, the sound of slippers thumping against stone. The interruption startled the spymaster, letting go of Ayre with a shove.

As Josephine reached the top of the rotunda, Ayre was stumbling back against the railings. She couldn't breathe, her face utterly red. Blackness filling her vision, she fell against one of the railings and slipped over.

" _Ayre!" "Inquisitor!"_ More voices screamed, all met with the sickening sound of Ayre's body meeting the floor of the level below. Her head had struck the aged wood hard, thankfully she hadn't fallen much further.

Josephine sent a shocked glare to Leliana, running back down the steps to the lower landing. The Inquisitor's body made the wood groan, the floor beneath her almost buckling from the strain of the fall. Ayre's eyes were open; Bloodshot and dazed.

She was still alive… "What did you do to her?!" Josephine yelled back to Leliana, the spymaster staring down from the upper level.

"I had received information-" "That warranted her immediate death? At your hands?" The Antivan spat, unsure if she should try to sit Ayre up. The Inquisitor hadn't seemed to notice her, eyes fixed up from where she had fell.

"I am sure she's told you." Leliana seemed unsettled; Her plan had obviously gone wrong. Josephine gave her an exasperated glance, gently touching Ayre's jaw.

"She has, but she is not who she once was." The Antivan focused on her lover, trying to draw her gaze. Fade-touched veridian stayed focused high above them, dazed still.

Was she even still conscious…?

"Back, get back!" Dorian was at her side in a flash, gazing up to gauge the fall and glare to Leliana. "How could you do this?"

"I had only meant to get answers, not… This." The spymaster spoke solemnly back, starting her way down.

"Is she conscious?" Josephine asked, gently touching Ayre's jaw again. Dorian fussed her hand away, bracing the Inquisitor's neck to check.

"She doesn't… seem to be." The mage murmured, settling his fingers against her throat. "Cousin-?"

"What is going on here?!" The seeker's voice echoed throughout the rotunda, the scene laid out before her very confusing.

"Lady Pentaghast, do something about your Left Hand, would you?" Dorian tried to rouse Ayre, but the Inquisitor remained unaware. Leliana rounded near Cassandra, Josephine utterly at a loss.

"What have you done?" Cassandra snarled to Leliana, though the damaged floor and the bruises on Ayre's neck led her to suspect.

"She led the Red Marchers. She was behind Divine Justinia's death-" Leliana was silenced with a glower, backing down.

"In her _youth_." Cassandra glared, drawing her sword on the spymaster. "Ayre Trevelyan is not someone who would do that."

"You don't even _know_ her. None of us do." Leliana contested, the two turning their attention back to the battered noble.

Blood was quickly staining the disheveled scarf around the redhead's neck, Ayre's gaze still stuck above them. Josephine was quite distraught; speaking softly in her native tongue. A prayer?

"Leliana!" A harsh voice startled them all, especially the injured Inquisitor. Parthena barreled in, not a thread out of place. Leliana seemed beside herself; lips parting as her surprise was clearly shown.

About to speak again, Parthena lowered her gaze to the Inquisitor.

Stepping forward, the warden-commander reached for the hilt of her longsword as ice found the seeker's gaze. "Lady Cassandra, I would appreciate it if you sheathed your blade." She was bristled; Cassandra still holding Leliana at bay.

Scowling, though starstruck, the seeker obeyed. "We will be discussing this later."

"Indeed we will be. I will see to it that the Inquisitor makes a full recovery." Parthena leveled her gaze to Josephine; the others also having the Antivan in their sights.

Josephine glared, realizing that Parthena wanted the area clear. "I will _not_ leave." She protested, even as her words shook. She was worried for Ayre, for what the Inquisition might become from this.

"I know you two are together. I promise that she will be fine… but I need you to _leave_." Parthena spoke lowly, a reassuring tone underlying beneath the grave voice. Leliana kept her head down, biting her lower lip in fear.

Josephine flicked her gaze to the spymaster, brows furrowing in concern. Would the warden _hurt_ Leliana for this? Ayre gained her focus, the Inquisitor blinking slowly. Had she been unconscious…?

"Then…" Josephine kissed her lover's brow, saddened by the lack of response. "I will be in her quarters in one hour… Ayre had better be resting there." She leveled them both with a glare, rising to step out.

Lowering her hand from the hilt of her great weapon, the warden drew her gaze back to Leliana. Hawk-like features softened, and she approached her conflicted lover.

"How are you…?"

"The calling persists, but I still have a use in this world." Parthena grasped Leliana's hands, easing the thick gloves of the Spymaster off. "I know who she is, too." The warden confessed, drawing Leliana against her. The redhead put up no struggle, simply happy to have her love nearby once more.

"It seems everyone knows, but we shouldn't be the ones to bring it to light to the world." Parthena settled her chin atop Leliana's head, rubbing her back gently. " _All sins are forgiven; All crimes pardoned. Let no soul harbor guilt; Let no soul hunger for justice. By the Maker's will I decree harmony in all things. Let balance be restored , and the world given eternal life."_

Trembling, Leliana found solace in her lover's embrace. "Maker, what have I done…?" She whispered, closing her eyes against it all. How could anyone ever forgive her? Ayre was simply terrified, and perhaps the younger woman had changed…

The two parted when the Inquisitor groaned, Parthena stepping to tower over her. "Quite the fall." She commented, kneeling. Blood stained Ayre's scarf, and the warden gently braced the younger's head. Pale skin quickly becoming muddied by crimson, the elder sighed.

With a whisper, ice became griseous; warmth seeping from Parthena's hand to the back of Ayre's skull. Blood slowly stopped flowing, and focus returned to fade-touched green.

"Healing is always hardest." Parthena softly admitted, seeming a little more exhausted than before. She withdrew her hand, Leliana gently grasping it to clean.

"Where…?" Ayre closed her eyes tight before she opened them again. Her vision adjusted, and found Leliana's regretful gaze. Her eyes widened, but Parthena held her down with her free hand.

"Be still." The warden murmured, looking the Inquisitor over. Satisfied, the elder gently led her to stand.

"Those bruises will stay, but the brunt of it is taken care of." Parthena nodded, looking to Leliana. She gripped Ayre's shoulder to keep her in place, the Inquisitor stiffening up.

"Between you two, there will be no more ill will. Bloodshed does not suit this union." The warden cocked a brow, and Ayre sighed softly. About to speak, the Inquisitor was interrupted.

"She has signed her life away to the Wardens once Thedas is safe." Parthena informed Leliana, sapphire eyes widening in disbelief.

"No, you can't-" Biting her lip, Leliana watched as Ayre stumbled when Parthena let her go. The youngest of them dropped to a knee, and the spymaster followed to brace her. "I won't accept this. You could die-"

"I think she plans on it, as atonement." The warden spoke, crossing her arms. She noticed something… strange.

Leliana gently grasped the Inquisitor's shoulders, bringing the younger to rest against her chest. "I trusted you." She spoke softly, feeling Ayre stiffen again. "You… you saved me, from myself."

Shifting to hold her closer, Leliana gripped into sable cloth. "Back at Haven, when you convinced me not to kill Butler… you saved me. I was so distraught and depressed; I believed the Maker was punishing me, punishing all of us."

Parthena stood silent, studious of the other two. Leliana gazed up to the warden, fear in her eyes. "I was afraid Parthena would die before I got to see her again, then your sacrifice at Haven… I trusted you so deeply. To realize that there was this entirely different side to you-"

"Leliana…" Ayre eased back from the hold, grasping the spymaster's wrists. "I know this must break any trust you had in me, but this is the only way to make up for my past."

"No, it isn't!" Leliana tightened her hold on the Inquisitor, and Ayre realized her spymaster was trembling. "I already may lose Parthena, I can't lose you…"

There it was. Parthena felt her chest twinge, and the warden sighed softly. "You have already… come to terms with it?" She asked, gentle gaze on Leliana. The spymaster flushed, seeming ashamed yet still frightened. She nodded, closing her eyes as they filled with tears.

Ayre just knelt there shocked, caught off all guard. "But… we could find a cure for the calling. That's why we invited Parthena, isn't it?" She glanced up to the warden, bracing Leliana to comfort her.

The warden spared a small smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Even if we could cure the calling… I've already started to lose my sight. I fear my mind is not far behind." Parthena closed her eyes, sighing lowly.

"The life of a Grey Warden is… drastically cut short. The darkspawn blood within us is a poison that we are only strong enough against for a short time. For having lived a decade past consumption, I believe I am nearing my time."

Ice blue opened again, the warden pinning the Inquisitor with her gaze. " _The Maker smiles sadly on his Grey Wardens, so the Chantry says, as no sacrifice is greater than theirs."_

"...Then I will add to that sacrifice." Ayre murmured softly, Leliana clinging to her tighter. "If anything can be done to atone for my past, I will do it."

Parthena nodded down to her, reaching to help Leliana to her feet. "Once Thedas is saved, you will take your rite at the Joining. If you live… you will not live well." The warden condemned, comforting Leliana as she escorted the spymaster away.

A little shellshocked, Ayre kept her spot. What had just happened…? She remembered Leliana had tried to, well, not kill her. Interrogate was a little light-handed, but that was the best she could put it. Something dawned on her, and the Inquisitor's brows rose.

Had Leliana… _confessed_?

* * *

 

Exactly one hour later, Josephine was marching up the steps. Her brow was set, and she was inwardly steamed. If Ayre had not even regained consciousness…

She hadn't seen Leliana since the incident, nor Parthena. With a small amount of hesitation, Josephine opened the door to the Inquisitor's quarters.

"Josephine?" The Antivan's heart leapt at Ayre's voice, though it sounded rough. No doubt thanks to Leliana… With a sigh, she pushed all thought aside and ascended the steps.

At the landing, the Inquisitor was resting in a pile of blankets and pillows. She smirked at Josephine's incredulous look; the ambassador giving the entire room a once-over.

"No one else is here." Ayre assured, pushing herself to sit up. Her scarf was drenched in a basin by the washroom; crimson water having been dumped thrice by now. She was dressed down in a simple tunic and trousers, her sleeves having been threaded off. Josephine wondered what the obsession was for bared arms, then blushed when Ayre reached for her.

The muscles, of course.

"How are you feeling?" Dark eyes sought out the bruises littering Ayre's throat, and Josephine graciously accepted a seat beside her.

"Confused." The Inquisitor happily supplied, grinning when she was batted at. "My throat is tender, but all else is fine. I talked with Leliana, and Parthena, and we are… at peace."

"Even with your past?" Josephine's brows drew together with worry, even more so when Ayre hesitated.

"...Yes. I will atone once Thedas is safe." She vaguely left it at that, though Josephine tried to see through it.

"Isn't saving the world atonement enough?" The elder tried to tease, but Ayre only smiled softly.

"Saving Thedas can be spun to make me appear selfish, love… If I don't, this Anchor will kill me." The Inquisitor sighed, pulling Josephine close to hold. Concerned, the ambassador allowed the action; burying her face into Ayre's throat. She had been so frightened…

"...You smell of Andraste's Grace." Dark eyes opened, and Josephine quirked a brow.

Ayre's expression faltered, but she chuckled softly. "Leliana was choking me, dear."

"Right… of course." Josephine brushed it off, but she had noticed that their spymaster had become more affectionate lately. Before this incident, that is…

"Well… We are now hosting the Hero of Ferelden. I hope she doesn't find the training ground lacking."

* * *

 

"Another lap." Parthena watched Leliana stumble; the hot sun having begun to set. There was no sweat upon the warden's brow, longsword held aloft strongly. Cassandra was watching at a distance, gaze steely. The seeker supposed that if the Inquisitor could forgive Leliana, she would as well…

"The Warden is punishing Leliana? That's rather kinky." Sera popped up beside the seeker, causing Cassandra to jump. "Wonder if after that sweaty running, she'll spank her-"

"Sera." Cassandra huffed, cheeks reddening just the slightest. "Is there a reason for this disturbance?"

"No fun, you are…" The elf jut her lower lip out, shrugging. "Too much tension here, wanted to cut it."

Parthena flicked her gaze towards the both of them, and Cassandra straightened up stiffly. Sera snickered, waggling her fingers to the warden.

"Right fit, she is…"

"That's enough, 'ana." Parthena softly spoke as the spymaster finished another line; sweat dripping from her cheeks. She had been running for hours, now…

Leliana had been gracefully allowed to take off her chainmail before being punished; Dark violet cloth almost black with sweat. She fought to catch her breath, Parthena bracing both hands on the redhead's shoulders. " _In the absence of light, shadows thrive."_ The warden prayed softly, steadying the elder.

She kept her voice down, letting Leliana breathe. " _If she is to be your light, then I can only be humble and hope you will see this through."_

"Parthena…" Leliana panted, swallowing before capturing her warden in a soulful kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too." The warden smiled, drying the elder's face and shoulders with a towel. "Come now, let's get you cleaned up…" She gazed towards Cassandra again, almost delighting in how the seeker straightened her posture.

"Doing that on purpose now, she is." Sera smirked to Cassandra, the warden and Leliana entering Skyhold. "Just wanted to see you pose."

"Ugh." Cassandra shrugged off Sera's words, shaking her head. "Go elsewhere and take downtime. The Winter Palace was a trial…"

"All that free food and wine? Pfft, I had a right time!"

* * *

 

"Josephine…?" Ayre roused from sleep, a little surprised. She felt rather than heard the elder hum; finding herself braced against Josephine's chest.

"What is it, love?" The Antivan was reading from a scroll, and Ayre briefly wondered if Josephine normally kept one on her at all times to peruse.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Not long." Setting the scroll aside, the ambassador smiled softly. "An hour at the most? I just let you rest."

"Oh, thank you." Ayre murmured, sitting up to stretch. She felt leagues better than earlier, but her throat still stung. No doubt those bruises would take a while to fade.

"Vivienne had stopped by; she has a cream that she says does wonders." Josephine stood to retrieve it, slippers off and to the side. Ayre grinned at that, admiring bare ankles. This was the least dressed she had seen the elder… Maker's breath, they had to fix that!

Who knew how long she was for this world? "Josephine… would you stay with me, tonight?" Ayre's words caused the ambassador to freeze; hands cupping the jar. Her back was to the Inquisitor, and the redhead grinned boldly.

"I don't mean to frighten you, but…" Struggling to stand, if only for a moment, Ayre made her way to the elder. "I love you, Josephine Montilyet. I want to show you just how much you mean to me."

The jar shook in Josephine's grasp, the elder tightening her hold on it to stop. "I-I…" Dark skin was ever darker; Ayre gently saving the jar before cupping Josephine's hands.

"You don't have to." The Inquisitor assured, pressing her lips to the elder's brow. "Leliana did say you were an innocent in love-"

"In love, not in-"

"-I know. She said so too." Ayre smiled, kissing Josephine's cheek this time. "I only thought that perhaps we could see each other a little more often. You without your slippers is the least amount of clothing I've seen."

The Inquisitor grinned deviously. "And I know you've seen me with far less on-"

"Are we interrupting?" Parthena's low voice startled the both of them, Josephine whipped about as if caught in a nightdress.

"I did knock." The warden had a soft smirk, suggesting otherwise. Leliana stood behind her, gazing over the younger's shoulder. She still seemed chastened, and a little shy. Not at all what they were used to…

"I, ah…" Ayre felt her face grow hot, clearing her throat as she rubbed the nape of her neck. "Of course not… What can I do for you?"

As Josephine snuck away to replace her slippers, Parthena took a step inside. "I was rather hoping the four of us could dine together." Ice blue followed the ambassador. "In apologies for earlier behavior."

Leliana bowed her head to that, catching Ayre's eyes from beneath her eyelashes. The Inquisitor bit the inside of her cheek, clearing her throat as she tore her gaze away. "Ah, Josephine?"

"O-of course, I wouldn't oppose." The elder blushed and chuckled softly once her slippers were back on. Such a silly thought…

"Then dinner it is." Ayre brought her focus back to their guests, noting Leliana's hood was down. Parthena smiled graciously, taking another step inside.

"Was the floor more comfortable?" The warden asked, cocking a brow to the bundle.

"The bed was making me hot." Ayre teased, though stilted when Leliana smirked even the slightest. Oh, dinner was going to be quite awkward…

* * *

 

**AN: I am so sorry for the long wait for updates! My job is very taxing and I've not felt creative in months... Thankfully I was able to sit down and write this all in one night! Sorry if it feels a little rough but I did go over it a few times. Enjoy, and please comment!**


	18. Fleeting Perfection

**Conquering the Ambassador**

**Fleeting Perfection**

* * *

 

Sometimes the fade seemed more real to her than the ever present dirt beneath her feet; more real than the blood that spilled from wounds that would kill lesser beings. Inwardly scoffing, the Inquisitor gazed out into the sickly miasma of the Fade.

Lesser beings… As if she could scrape lower now that everyone knew. Well, not everyone. Parthena had warned that Cullen didn't and should not know. The former Knight-Commander might sooner flay her alive-

Eyes the same as this dimension scoured over the horizon, but everything was the same. Miserable, painful, taste of blood in her cheek.

She hated dreaming, or was this even that? Was her conscience the only thing sucked into the Fade? Surely her physical body remained in a pile of pillows, Josephine holding her clad in only a nightgown…

Soon, Ayre returned to the world of the living; left arm weak and prickly to the touch.

"You are a rather fitful sleeper." Josephine's voice was low, no light in her quarters. It was still night, and Ayre remembered the evening's events.

"I dream too much." The younger woman murmured, sitting up to lean back against the pillows. Josephine's brows drew close, and she captured the Inquisitor's weak hand. Ayre tried not to wince, but dark eyes couldn't be fooled.

"Your past haunts you." It wasn't a question, but the Inquisitor answered with a nod either way. "Good. That means you are not soulless, as you may think. You are a good person, my love… please believe in that."

She hadn't told them the worst of it. Ayre swallowed hard, remembering back to their dinner meeting with the Warden and Leliana.

* * *

 

_Those blue eyes wouldn't stop watching her… both sets of them. Josephine had apparently not noticed, or deigned to ask why. Ayre had neglected to eat, citing her throat as an excuse._

_It truly hurt, but that wasn't the cause. Her stomach was so twisted up over remembering; over so many others_ _**knowing** _ _. Leliana caught her eye, passing over a steamed cup of tea._

" _Honey, for your throat. Not vinegar, like the last time." She broke the silence, earning a surprise chuckle from the Inquisitor._

_Josephine flushed, clearing her throat and sitting straighter. "I will have you know that it was a brilliant way to force the truth." She accused, Parthena watching in silent amusement._

" _I assume this has to do with the instance of the Red Lyrium?" The warden finally spoke, greying hair gently brushed back from her shoulders. "I am still very surprised to see you yet live."_

" _For the better." Or worse. Ayre accepted the tea, gently taking a sip. Even the scalding burn couldn't take her mind off of her past. As the other three ate and conversed, she lost herself in thought._

_There was a time she didn't deal with daggers or blades. She excelled with a bow and arrow, like Sera… Like Leliana._

_When Ayre had been Arlessamine, runaway from home because of stifling parents, she had run into a bandit group. At first they sought to hurt her themselves, but…_

_The Inquisitor trembled, thankful no one noticed. Parthena kept an eye on her nonetheless, familiar with the look of a woman lost in thought._

_The bandit group had been starving, and very loud. She bribed them with all the food in her pack; what had been enough for a week for her became a meal for everyone but. By dumb luck she had been brought in instead of killed._

_She was out hunting within the hour, and had heard something. Hunger before thought, she let an arrow fly into the belly of the woods and gave chase. What met her was a young boy, barely old enough to be toddling; dead with her arrow through his neck._

_She was sickened beyond belief, but desperate. Desperate for food, for the respect of these barbarians she had just met. So, she grasped the arrow and held it and the body aloft between her hands, carrying it back with a twisted victory._

_Everyone had been fed that night._

_Ayre trembled again, knocking back the rest of the scalding tea. It burned her tongue and mouth, but chased away the taste of- "Inquisitor."_

_Parthena grasped the cup tightly from her hand and set it down. "Too lost in thought, even with such pretty women in attendance? It's a good thing you saved this for after Halamshiral." The warden teased, but her eyes were still hard; still ice. Perhaps they were more similar than Ayre had thought._

" _Think of how that would have played out. The Imperial Court would think me a more serious person than a charmer; I couldn't possibly have that." Ayre chuckled lowly, the noise bereft of any amusement. Josephine gave a worried look, but Leliana's giggle surprised her._

" _You should have heard the Empress when she thought she only had Briala's ear. 'We are very surprised at the Inquisitor's beauty; Her raw power displayed…'" Leliana set her gaze to the Inquisitor's, Ayre swallowing hard._

" _It is surprising she touched you; when she pulled you close for that speech? Touch between Orlesians is used for claiming, not pretty words. I think she intended to ask you to her chambers, Inquisitor."_

_Ayre almost choked, Josephine patting her back as the table shared a laugh. "I would rather think she sees herself untouchable." The younger woman murmured, blushing softly. Perhaps this was exactly what she needed every now and then; to feel as young as she truly was._

" _Untouchable except to those she_ _ **wants**_ _to touch." Leliana spoke again, another gaze. Parthena roamed her hand along the spymaster's back; a possessive touch that Ayre recognized from before._

" _Lady Montilyet, before our time tonight ends, there's something we must discuss." Ice eyes met dark amber, and Josephine cocked a brow._

" _Whatever is the issue, Lady Cousland?"_

_Parthena stifled a smile, bowing her head instead as if chastised. "The Inquisitor has agreed that after Thedas is saved and Corypheus is dealt with… she will be conscripted into the Wardens as punishment for her crimes as the Ire of the Red Marchers."_

_Ayre winced even as Josephine gasped, taking her lover's hand. "You cannot possibly be serious. The Inquisition… it will still remain once this threat is gone. To heal the world, to help those recuperate what has been lost…"_

" _And if the Inquisitor survives the Joining, she will still be with you." Parthena grimaced at her choice of words; it seemed the Hero of Ferelden could still misstep._

" _If she has survived this far, I doubt she would die of a little drink." Leliana tried to lighten the mood, but Josephine was trembling if barely._

" _I would rather try my hand at joining the Wardens than have this guilt on my shoulders; pressing down at the nape of my neck, Josephine." Ayre cupped the hand in hers, massaging tension from her wrist. "I'm sorry."_

_The Antivan closed her eyes, turning more into the Inquisitor to clutch the front of her tunic. Parthena shared a glance with Leliana, the spymaster nodding in return._

" _Each time you leave Skyhold, I fear you will never return… And now? Even if we do prevail and you live, you may die even still." Josephine gave a watery chuckle, burying her brow against Ayre's shoulder._

_Ayre chose not to mention that her mark had spread since Halamshiral; right up to her shoulder when she used that rift to engulf those would-be assassins. The pain had been excruciating… Thankfully, out of use it no longer glowed._

" _Josephine." Parthena spoke again, all formalities gone. "It is true that-" She paused, as if not liking the taste of the Inquisitor's name. She quirked a grin instead, mischief in ice. "It is true that_ _ **Julius**_ _faces a great threat to come."_

_Ayre's brows rose. She hadn't been called Julius except by Lilith-_

" _You memorized my name?" The Inquisitor mumbled, ignored as Parthena kept speaking._

" _I once faced a great threat as I faced anything; head on. Of course, I didn't have the entire world at my side to help. I only had_ _ **my**_ _world." Parthena gazed to Leliana, smiling softly. "I have no doubt that Julius-" There it was again. "-will prevail in not only this but in everything to come."_

" _I only hope that you are right." Josephine spoke softly, though seemed amused at the change of names to address. "If you are not, I am afraid I will always hold you accountable."_

_Parthena bowed her head in understanding, gazing out to the balcony. "Well, then I think we must finally leave you two for the night… try not to stay up too late."_

* * *

 

Ayre woke truly the next morning, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. Josephine was thankfully still beside her; asleep and sprawled in the most adoring way possible. Unfortunately due to their shared dinner, they hadn't the chance to truly become lovers.

She was growing very frustrated. The Inquisitor chuckled softly, waking Josephine as she leaned down to kiss her brow. The Antivan hummed lowly, tilting her head for their lips to meet.

"I do apologize that we were interrupted last night." The first words since early this morning…

The redheaded noble snickered softly, drawing Josephine's attention. "Sorry, but… you're seriously being so formal while apologizing for not being able to make love-?"

"Goodness!" Josephine sat up quickly, coloring darkly as Ayre laughed more. She gathered the elder into her arms, trapping her playfully with another kiss.

"I do love you, Josephine Montilyet."

Sighing, the Antivan smirked faintly. "As I love you, Julius Trevelyan."

"Why is _that_ the name chosen? I could have been a Victoria, too…"

Josephine's nose crinkled. "Victoria is much too pure for a rascal like you; talking so brazenly of making lo- goodness, I almost-!"

Ayre fell over laughing as her poor ambassador scrambled to dress.

* * *

 

Parthena was praying in the small room by the garden; where a statue of Andraste had been commissioned. She had left the door open for the breeze, but felt it being interrupted as someone kept pacing by. Ice eyes opening, she hummed lowly and felt the breeze blocked completely.

"I assume that you are either the Inquisitor-" A nervous shuffle. "-or Seeker Pentaghast."

"The latter is correct." Cassandra ground out, finally stepping in to join her. Parthena kept her knelt position, greatsword leaning against the wall. She felt the seeker join her, though was unsure of the intention.

"I have made sure no one else knows of…" Cassandra cleared her throat, bowing her head. Parthena hummed again, lowering her hands from their clasped position. She grasped onto the stone base of the statue, sighing softly.

"Good. The less that know, the better. It is only by circumstance that I knew at all. I wish I hadn't." Parthena admitted, Cassandra nodding in agreement.

"She is our Inquisitor, the one who can save the world now…" Cassandra lifted her head to gaze up at Andraste's face. "She is my sister."

"I am gladdened to hear she has so much support, Seeker. You would be surprised how rare that is to find these days." Parthena quirked a smile, stretching lazily. Her armor was perfectly melded to her body; blood and sweat was always a better armorer than a blacksmith.

"I know the sting of lack of people's faith." Cassandra sighed, though Parthena's slow rising chuckle made her suspicious.

"I never thought I would ever get to meet the Hero of Orlais, yet here we are; in a small room with a statue of Andraste." The warden smirked, directing her ice gaze to Cassandra. "Is it true you rode and used one dragon to tackle a high dragon to save-"

"Yes it's true, why is that always so surprising? I saw what needed to be done and I did it." Cassandra huffed, though Parthena's amusement only grew.

"Cassandra, if I may be so bold as to use your name, you are a wondrous warrior. I would love to fight at your side one day."

The older woman's face flushed, eyes warily scanning the warden. "Perhaps we can spar later, though I feel the Inquisitor should have that privilege first."

"A rogue? Against that sword?" Parthena cocked a brow, seeming more jovial than she had since arriving.

"She also uses a sword and shield." Cassandra smirked, a little proud that she had helped Ayre dual-wield. Though, the redhead had a penchant for picking up such skills with ease…

"The Inquisitor, our Free Marcher noble who dresses like a mage, specializes as a rogue and fights like a warrior. Perhaps that is someone I should spar." The warden smirked softly, an unknown humor element taking hold.

"For now, let's conclude our prayer." Parthena included Cassandra easily, the both of them bowing their heads and clasping hands.

" _Passing out of the world, in that Void shall they wander; O unrepentant, faithless, treacherous, They who are judged and found wanting, Shall know forever the loss of the Maker's love. Only Our Lady shall weep for them."_

* * *

 

Perhaps she should make it a habit to change her name? The Inquisitor sat at her throne with a few reports, looking them over slowly. She had taken the name 'Ayre' for the Ire of the Red Marchers, when she commanded them with bloodthirst.

It was a cheeky shortening of 'Arlessamine' that never truly made sense to her… Then again, naming your child after a _noble title_ never made sense either. Were her parents trying to rival the Couslands in their landholdings? By taking Amaranthine?

Shaking her head, Ayre sighed and set one report down. Western Approach… that dry desert plain. Why was there a sudden interest to explore it now?

"Inquisitor?" Varric's voice distracted her, and the redhead folded her reports to return later.

"What is it; Not another snippet of terrible truth, is it?" She forced a grin, unsure if he knew. Or perhaps he had known all along and was toying with her…

"Not just yet." He grinned either way, shifting to hide his quill. "I'm afraid something has just come to mind; someone who could help us."

"Someone who could help us? We've got almost everyone on our side-"

"Trust me, you'll want this someone. Just… come to the battlements when you're ready to meet them." Varric cast a look around, hurriedly rushing off.

Standing from her throne, Ayre cocked a brow and watched his retreat. Just what was he up to now…?

"Inquisitor?" That grave voice. Closing her eyes a moment, the redhead shifted to face Parthena. The warden was always far too close for comfort, even if at a distance.

"Yes, Warden-Commander?" If titles were thrown-

"Did I strike a nerve, _Julius_? I happen to think it suits you." Parthena chuckled lowly, heat racing up Ayre's neck. "Especially before your throne made of a dragon's jaw…"

"I changed it recently…" Ayre turned to address her seat of judgement, and the stained glass depicted behind it. It was of Andraste's last stand, and of her death. She bit the inside of her cheek, a sour taste overcoming her tongue. Would she too become like Andraste? A sacrifice at the end of her story, to be told for generations to come?

"Out of your head." Parthena's touch at the nape of her neck felt icy, yet no metal covered her fingers. They were calloused and rough, comforting yet haunting as the strength she wielded could end her in a moment.

"I wanted to invite you to spar, but it seems you're busy fighting your demons." The warden continued lowly, leading Ayre from the grand hall and out towards the gardens. Ice flicked to Morrigan, somewhat surprised to see her before remembering.

"Tis good to see you, up and about." The witch tried to goad, if only for the smirk she had missed these past ten years.

It was granted, with a wiggle of fingers no less. "You know how much I like to see more of you in the sunlight." Parthena teased, gaze dipping down the path of milky skin from throat to cleavage before Morrigan crossed her arms; face flush with embarrassment.

Ayre chuckled lowly, shaking her head. Perhaps now wasn't the time for more serious thoughts. "Sparring sounds good. Aren't you worried I'll be too fast for that dragon fang of yours?"

Her fade-drenched gaze raked over the greatsword strapped to Parthena's back. How that would sting if she so much got grazed…

"I'm worried you'll be too slow." Parthena returned the barb expertly. "I am far beyond my prime to lead an Inquisition, I'm afraid."

Ayre swallowed thickly, clearing her throat. "You said you were-" Glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard, she sighed. "-going blind. Is that true?"

"Sometimes. Other times, my vision is too sharp; I find things I would rather not see." Parthena admitted, hand still at the nape of Ayre's neck. "But, sparring with you will not hurt anything but my pride; if you manage to land me on my back at all."

"A challenge, I see…" Ayre eased from under the elder's paw, smirking faintly. She felt much better about her situation, now. Perhaps she just needed a little more support.

"A challenge. I; Parthena Cousland, Warden-Commander and Hero of Ferelden, challenge you; Julius Trevelyan, Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste, to a duel." The warden spoke loud enough to alert everyone in the gardens.

Mother Giselle narrowed her eyes, but Ayre chuckled and spoke up. "Not in the gardens, of course." She assured, centering Parthena in her gaze. "I accept. Let us convene in a more appropriate place?"

"The training grounds are a little small for such a grand feat. How about… the battlements?"

Battlements… she was supposed to meet Varric's friend up there. She had an inkling of who it was. "I agree. Let's convene there in one hour? I'll ask that everyone be informed."

"To witness their Inquisitor's defeat?" Parthena smirked, taking the light shove in stride. "Very well. Come ready, Julius."

Ayre watched the warden stride, no other word was as powerful for the way Parthena carried herself. She looked away when the elder met Morrigan again, and held her breath for a moment. Up to the battlements… perhaps this would be a good distraction, for now.

* * *

 

"Varric, Cassandra will literally murder you." Ayre covered her face, and smothering a groan in the process.

"Is she alright? Oh, am I finally too beautiful for mortal eyes?" That distinct voice of the Champion of Kirkwall only made her more frustrated.

"May I present to you, Inquisitor… Harlow Hawke." Varric grinned at his old friend's antics, and the mage happily bowed.

"Correction. I will literally kill you first." Ayre glared, shaking her head. Harlow stepped forward with a narrowed gaze before Varric erupted in laughter.

"Don't worry, she wouldn't hurt me. I'm coining her biography-"

"Not a soul asked him." Ayre deadpanned, Harlow coming closer with a more amenable stance.

"Does anyone ever?" Harlow sighed theatrically, pushing her long dark hair back. A streak of paint across her noble nose, or perhaps it was blood? Ayre suddenly felt sick.

"We need the battlements clear, soon. The Warden-Commander and I will be having a duel." Ayre spoke up, looking to Varric. For his credit, the dwarf looked only slightly surprised.

"Up here? She must be planning to absolutely put on a show. Where can I watch?" Harlow grinned, rubbing her hands together.

"Somewhere no one can see you." Ayre suggested, rubbing her face. "Especially not Cassandra."

"I do love secrets, but perhaps after the duel, I'll come to light, hm?" Harlow glanced to Varric, nodding to him. "Before we clear, however… I do want to help you. The Grey Wardens have been disappearing, and I think I know where."

* * *

 

Parthena was adorned in the suit she had worn at Halamshiral; her crimson aiguillette being finished by Leliana. "Do try not to kill her, hm?" The spymaster teased, leading the way towards the battlements.

"I won't kill her. I'd hate to have all of this on my shoulders." Parthena smirked, trailing a hand over the hilt of her longsword. The hilt rested high above her right shoulder; silk brocade ribbon wrapped around it. It was sentimental, and reminded her of Leliana's eyes.

"I love you, 'ana." Parthena caught her hand before the two met sunlight, and the audience at large. She led Leliana against the stone wall, cupping her lover's cheek. She was still bereft of gloves or greaves; heated palm soothed by Leliana's skin.

"I love you, Parthena… more than I could have ever known." Leliana drew her closer, hands cupping the taller woman's throat. She closed her eyes, their brows resting against one another. "I am so glad to have you by my side… I've missed you terribly."

"As I have missed you, 'ana." Parthena gave her another gentle kiss, smiling softly into it. "Wish me luck, hm?"

"As if you need it." Leliana teased, and led the warden up into the sunlight. The audience cheered, Josephine waving delicately from atop one of the keeps in the center of the battlements.

It seemed her and Cullen stood at the precipice to watch over the duel, and Leliana winked. "I'll stay here, in your corner." She promised, Parthena dipping to kiss her hand cheekily.

"I would hope so."

Ayre had her nerves set high, Cassandra in her apparent corner. She felt guilty for hiding Hawke, but for now, they were all distracted. She wore her regular gear; rubbing over her bare arms. She wasn't allowed to use her daggers, what kind of a laugh was that?

"Do you need moral support?" Cassandra eyed her nervous tics, the Inquisitor snorting softly. "It is not shameful if you do-" "Yes."

She held aloft a shield of a dragon's wing, the thing larger than she with a sword to match. Both were heavy but she could wield them handily. Cassandra's hand laid onto her shoulder, gently squeezing. "Do not be afraid, it is only a duel for morale and… fun. You should enjoy it and take it as a learning experience."

Cassandra paused, looking over Ayre's shoulder to the warden. Parthena wielded the greatsword in one hand for a moment, pumping it into the air for the cries of the faithful. "Beat her."

The Inquisitor stood strong, nodding before she turned to stride towards the warden. Her hair was held back in that silver clasp, polished by Cassandra. The seeker still wore that black ribbon in her hair, stance strong and proud as she watched Ayre's back.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan." Parthena greeted, the two separated by at least twenty feet. Ayre inclined her head in acknowledgment, cocking a brow. "Would you join me in prayer before we begin?"

The redhead nodded once more, and Parthena drew her greatsword before her to stab into the ground; hands clasped over the hilt as she bowed her head. Ayre shouldered her shield and mimicked the pose with her own sword, brow placed against the decorated hilt.

" _Those who bear false witness and work to deceive others, know this: There is but one Truth. All things are known to our Maker; And He shall judge their lies."_

Cassandra and Leliana had bowed their heads as well, the breeze over the battlements from the mountains chilling all for a moment. Parthena rose her head, those ice eyes seeming to glow.

Ayre's own gaze drowned in the Fade; colors alive and swirling as she centered the warden in her vision. "I'll let you have the first move, Warden-Commander." She called out, the two wielding their weapons.

"Admirable, if foolish." Parthena spat back, the two closing distance. Ten feet apart, the warden's greatsword could still reach her if she chose. Ayre was nervous, shield at her side instead of hiding her form.

Heaving the greatsword to cleave the air, Parthena wound it behind her back in an obvious display of strength. Ayre noticed a blind-spot and shot forward; rearing her sword back.

Parthena smirked, one hand still twirling her weapon as the other elbowed the Inquisitor in the chest. Murmurs abound from the audience, and Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "Shameful." The seeker spat softly to herself, Parthena returning her hand to the hilt.

Ayre jumped back, a little sore but pride far more so. "You allowed me first strike. You shouldn't go back on your words, Inquisitor." Parthena scolded, done with her arrogance.

Gaze flaring up, the warden decimated all distance between them in the blink of an eye; forcing her sword through the air where Ayre had been. The Inquisitor fell to her side to dodge it, scrambling up with minor difficulty. It had been some time since she had to also wield a shield-

Parthena planted a boot into her side and shoved her down again. "Get up." She commanded, putting some distance between them. She caught Leliana's stare, a little harder than she expected.

So was the blow that caught her in the back. Ayre slammed her shield against the distracted warden, sword catching her forearm as the elder turned.

"First blood for the Inquisitor." Josephine called for those unable to see, more than half the audience cheering. Parthena scowled, holding her arm close for a moment. Her blood was darker than the crimson Ayre had seen spilled on so many battlegrounds.

Yet, that blood also glittered with- The Inquisitor was forced back, Parthena slamming the hilt of her greatsword into Ayre's stomach. The warden hurriedly covered her arm, but the droplets upon the stone were damning enough.

"Lyrium in the blood… you're a mage?" Ayre kept her voice down, the words just between them.

"How do you think I healed you?" The warden smirked, chuckling softly. "Arcane Warrior is the correct term, Inquisitor."

The Anchor sparkled to life, drawing on the lyrium speckled in the spilled blood. Ayre wasn't sure what it was doing, but tightened her hand around her sword. "How many know?"

She slid under another cleave of Parthena's sword, though earned an elbow to the cheek. "Leliana and Morrigan. That's it." The warden grunted, tossing Ayre back a few feet.

Landing on her back, Ayre hit her head against the stones. The pain reverberated within her head; the scars at her temple pulsing strongly. She stood quickly despite it, shaking herself out. She darted forward, slamming her shield against Parthena's swing.

"Can't Cullen or Cassandra sense it?" She asked, struggling beneath the weight and the warden's strength.

"They may, but they haven't said anything. I prefer secrecy." Parthena and Ayre shared a look, the Inquisitor nodding.

She feigned a buckle of her shield, dropping it and meeting the greatsword with her own blade. On one knee, the Inquisitor slowly forced up the warden's weapon until she could stand.

"You're stronger than you look." Parthena hummed, relenting with a vicious backhand. Ayre stumbled back, lip split from the blow. The Inquisitor huffed, rolling her shoulders. Her shield was booted away from Parthena, the warden striding closer.

"Doesn't a duel usually end at first blood?" Ayre stood tall, meeting her within a few paces.

"Or to the death." Parthena smirked, ice flaring before she yielded. She thrust her greatsword into the stone once more, taking a knee before the Inquisitor. " _The one who repents, who has faith; Unshaken by the darkness of the world, She shall know true peace."_

Ayre's shoulders lost tension, and the audience roared with cheers. She had bested the Hero of Ferelden in a duel…

Parthena rose her head, catching Leliana's gaze once more. The redhead nodded once, happy with the outcome if concerned. The warden rose at Ayre's command, the spymaster rushing in to wrap her lover's arm.

Josephine and Cullen descended from the keep, the Antivan going to Ayre's side to congratulate her with a kiss. Cassandra strode over, clasping her hand to the Inquisitor's shoulder.

Parthena faced the Inquisitor once more, offering her hand in goodwill. Ayre clasped her forearm, the two nodding to each other. "Well done, Julius." The warden's eyes had warmed with amusement, and the redhead rolled her own.

"Welcome to Skyhold, Warden-Commander."

* * *

 

Before dinner, Josephine had made sure to look her over; a faintly damp rag smelling of sweetness brushed over the split of her lip. Ayre quirked a brow, humming lowly as she tried to distinguish the scent.

"Royal elfroot and crushed crystal grace." Josephine informed, seeing the curious look on her lover's face. "I admit the crystal grace may only be for the pleasant scent, as the elfroot is powerful on its own." She teased the Inquisitor, inciting a grin.

"I knew I wasn't just gathering plants for naught." Ayre chuckled lowly, licking at the split. It tasted good, too-

"Don't." Josephine scolded, running the rag over her lip once more before disposing of it. "You did very well, and bolstered the morale of everyone in attendance; Parthena included, I do believe."

"Has anyone ever told you that your accent is excruciatingly beautiful?" Ayre earned a fierce blush and grinned lazily, Josephine lightly touching her shoulder.

"You are too charming." The elder smiled, gently kissing her cheek. There was a twinkle in her eye, and Josephine glanced around before lowering her voice. "Perhaps tonight we will meet in _my_ quarters. Surely no one will think to interrupt us there…?"

The Inquisitor froze, swallowing hard as she nodded dumbly. "I would… I would like that, Josephine. I'll meet you, tonight."

"I will be waiting with bated breath, Julius."

Ayre had no idea one of her middle names could sound so good.

* * *

 

"You _snake_!" Cassandra threw an entire drinking table across the room, narrowly avoiding Varric.

"You would have chained her!" He shot back, just barely darting from a chair.

Ayre sat in the middle of it all, still finishing a mug of tea. She had been _trying_ to relax in the empty tavern when Cassandra had stormed in. Apparently she had caught sight of Hawke when the mage offered to heal Parthena.

Varric had been hiding under the tap, unknown to the Inquisitor. Why had he been hiding here in the first place? The redheaded woman sipped at her mug, hoping the two would get the hint. Unfortunately, it seemed for naught.

"Would you two _please_ quiet down? Varric, you're a lying bastard and Cassandra has every right to be very upset. Cassandra, stop trying to kill him because the guilt of his actions will likely do that before you can. Are we done?" Ayre cocked a brow, the quarreling party stilling.

Cassandra furrowed her brows, immediately taking to her side. "You hit your head when the Warden threw you." She recalled, stripping a glove to press her knuckles to Ayre's brow. "Now you have a fever."

"Now I have a headache." The Inquisitor corrected, fussing away Cassandra's hand. "I will be fine… if I could rest. The scars are just that; I am fine." She assured, though rubbed her brow herself. A little warm…

Varric had wisely chosen that moment to slip out, and Cassandra sighed. She took the seat opposite of Ayre, holding her head for a moment.

"He should not have kept Hawke secret. It is true she had done terrible things but with the situation-" Cassandra shook her head. "What's done is done. We don't need Hawke when we have you. I suggest telling her so."

"We could use her, if something goes wrong." Ayre nodded, setting away her empty mug. "We will keep her… for now. Across the Waking Sea lies Kirkwall… perhaps we can heal all of Thedas, with the right tools."

Cassandra kept dark eyes on her; worry for a friend, a sister.

* * *

 

"Are you quite… serious?" The stench emanating from the crate made several turn up their noses; The Orlesian nobles however thought it immensely amusing.

Behind their masks, a couple closest to the throne chuckled at her reaction. Ayre pursed her lips, unable to stop the top from curling.

"First, this was not my idea." Josephine made sure to inform, hands clasped tight together in front of herself. "It is an issue born of titles and heir apparency-" The ambassador briefly covered her mouth and nose, sighing. She cleared her throat, beginning again with a louder voice.

"Halamshiral is having difficulties freeing trade routes formerly controlled by Duchess Florianne." She paused, letting the audience murmur as Ayre gave the box a wide stare.

"Had she been tried, her assets would have been voided and considerable bureaucracy avoided. So, they ask that we judge her." Josephine held her head high, a feat astonishing given the situation.

"...Are you serious?" Ayre asked once more, a bit of hardness on the edge of her voice. "I did my part; She's dead!"

Parthena watched on from the back, a cloak donned over her armor. She smirked towards the Inquisitor, catching Leliana's eye from the side of the throne.

Josephine kept quiet until glancing back. "That was the time allotted for rebuttal. Her crimes negated any claim to- Forgive me, there is an odor." She murmured behind her hand, voice thick.

The Inquisitor cleared her throat, bringing out a handkerchief of blue to cover her nose. "I think I remember something similar to this happening before…" She narrowed her eyes, straining to remember. "It happened… to an uncle of Emperor Leandre the Second. His trades routes were returned to the reigning monarch… so let's give Empress Celene a gift, shall we?"

"Of course, Inquisitor. Thank you for making this choice so swiftly-"

"Forgive me, Josephine; I'm afraid I'm not done. I still have to judge… the former Grand Duchess." Ayre removed the handkerchief, clearing her throat with a faint smirk.

"The Inquisition calls for rehabilitation!" She declared, standing to better convey her meaning. "The skull shall do public theater about the evils of evil." She paused, letting it sink in. A few nobles tittered, Parthena spitting her wine back into her glass.

"I also judge the box; end table for orphans!"

"That's quite enough, Inquisitor. Point taken." Josephine weakly glared even as the audience chuckled lowly.

"Thank you, ambassador. Guards, please make haste. Let's get a little fresh air…" Watching the box be escorted away, Ayre waved in front of her face.

As most of the audience adjourned to the gardens, the Inquisitor marched to the warden. Parthena greeted her with a grin, setting the wine aside for a servant to take.

"Julius. That was quite amusing; How could you remember something about an emperor from so long ago?" Amusement danced behind ice, the warden's gaze unnerving.

"There's something beautiful about history; it never fades." Ayre watched Parthena stand to meet her, the elder almost wistful.

"Heroes never die, and legends never fade. One day, you too will be a character out of legend; your story told around all of Thedas. Though, it seems like it's that way already." Parthena smiled, nodding over towards where Varric was writing.

"I read what he's got, so far. It is… something. An epic, no doubt. Is all of it true?"

"You ask as if you don't already know the answer, warden." Ayre returned the gaze shot to her, Parthena chuckling softly.

"I suppose I do know, yes. Forgive me, Julius. I didn't mean to dredge up old business." The elder rested a hand on the redhead's shoulder, gently squeezing. "But, you are different. Ayre no longer."

Ah. "That is what you've been doing, then. Changing my name… to help me leave the past behind?"

Parthena spared another small smile. "Yes… I hope I chose the best out of your long list…"

"Undoubtedly, yes." Ayre chuckled, subtly wiping her brow with scarred knuckles. Caused just after Haven; running from a falling mountain? She couldn't remember…

"Come, Julius… let's take a walk."

* * *

 

"Lady Pentaghast reports that the duel may have disturbed the Inquisitor." Josephine spoke lowly, at the top of the rookery. She glanced down, somewhat still afraid she would see the buckling of wood; her lover crumpled.

The incident had been struck from the record, and all that greeted her gaze was a pristine repair. Even the same old wood as before, so as not to be out of place…

"'Disturbed'? In what manner; the Inquisitor drew first blood, and held her own after." Leliana cocked a brow, reading over a report. Seems she was finishing up for the day; not even close to supper.

"Well, she did strike her head rather hard, and Cassandra says she now has a fever. The Inquisitor has been acting rather… strangely since the duel."

"Is this about her judging the box, too? I thought that was rather charming." Leliana smirked, but lost much amusement when Josephine sent her a withered glare.

"If this is about what we had cleared up… I assure you, Josie; Julius is fine. You were there when we drew it all from her, and there when she was healed after my… Treachery." Leliana lowered her voice, even if the rookery was void of others.

"I think it goes farther back… surely you remember her report of Therinfal Redoubt?" Josephine closed ranks, Leliana retreating to her desk and offering the younger the chair.

"I do, and the demon of Envy. If I recall correctly, she was shown a most… tyrannical future in which the demon replaced her. Cassandra was struck down, you imprisoned…" Leliana's brows furrowed. "Yet I remained at her side, violent the same."

"It was playing on her memories, twisting them into new encounters. She was not close to you enough then, so the demon did not have much to work with, Leliana. That version would not be the version it would play, now." Josephine reassured, taking her hand for a moment.

"...Mm. Thank you for putting that out of my mind." Beneath the draped shawl, shoulders relaxed and Leliana sighed in relief. "Since the first injury, her head must be rather sensitive."

Josephine tilted her head, encouraging the elder to continue.

"Parthena still gets a fever when she's hit in the middle of her back; A particularly painful injury borne from a thorny arrow from a Hurlock. Went clean through." Leliana smiled, perhaps remembering what _she_ then did to the Darkspawn in return.

"A few people have injuries that, even after ages of it being healed, still flare up. We should be more careful in the future, however. But, that is enough serious talk for one day, no?" The spymaster smiled, handing Josephine a report.

"Julius arranged visitation of Grand Duchess Florianne to her peers; to stop them trying to rise in their places. The end results are rather amusing." She winked, Josephine opening the report.

" _I would call our efforts a success, Inquisitor. The peers of Duchess Florianne are sufficiently frightened by her "visits" to have given up all attempt at following in her footsteps. In fact, we have been so effective at scaring the nobility, there is something of an urban legend arising because of us. They say if you whisper "last season" three times in your walk-in, the boxed duchess will appear, and you will be cursed to wear flat shoes._

_She does, you know. It happened to an arl I knew, I dare you, Julius."_

"Leliana, this is quite much." Josephine deadpanned, rolling the report up to deliver. "Extra, as the people in Val Royeaux are saying."

"Extra? I quite like that." Leliana smirked, chuckling softly. "At any rate, thank you for bringing your concern to me. I hope I was able to smooth your worries?"

"Better than anyone I could have gone to." Josephine stood, dusting off her satin dress. She paused, looking Leliana over curiously.

"Do you have an injury that flares such as theirs?" She softly asked, the spymaster staring back with a small, broken smile.

"I did, once."

* * *

 

"Tis quite gracious of you to come bear me greeting." Morrigan spoke, sarcasm deep in her accent.

Ayre cocked a brow, folding her arms with a grin. "Don't tell me my Imperial Court liaison is _upset_ I didn't visit her earlier?" She needled, meeting sharp gold with drowned Fade.

"Your eyes…" Morrigan moved ever closer, taking the Inquisitor by the jaw to keep her still. Ayre tensed, the witch pressing a point in her neck to keep her painfully in her grasp.

"Morrigan." A warning, even if playfully intoned. Parthena came between them, casting ice across the rest of the gardens. No one had noticed, and she cast the witch in her gaze.

"I was merely investigating." Morrigan coolly shrugged it off, Ayre clearing her throat. "Your gaze is drenched with the Fade, Inquisitor. Fitting, seeing as how your body is now a tool to manifest and dismiss it. Such power… do even you truly comprehend it?"

"You were right, Lady Cousland. She is unsettling." Ayre spoke with faint mirth, watching Morrigan shoot a glare to Parthena before realising.

"How amusing." Morrigan clicked her tongue, bristling.

The warden chuckled herself, easing a hand against the witch's back. "Be friendly, Morrigan. We are at the center of another world-changing event." Parthena grinned to their Inquisitor, taking her hand back.

"At Halamshiral, Morrigan was telling me about the Hissing Wastes." The warden swept her gaze around once more, sidling the other two closer. "Venatori activity there is quite… substantial. I believe they are seeking a power lost to the desert sands."

"What power?" Ayre cocked a brow, but the warden only hummed.

"I would not know. The wastes are but an ever stretching desert; magnificent beasts and metal are to be found, but little else other than ruins." Parthena cupped her chin, thinking.

"Fools. Those _ruins_ could very well be what they seek." Morrigan huffed, bristling when an arm was thrown over her shoulder.

"Wastes, desert, ruins and hissing? Count me in." Harlow gave a toothy grin, Ayre and Parthena staring blankly for a moment. "What? Is it the nose? It's not crooked again, is it?"

"You know… this could be a grand idea." Parthena slowly grinned, taking to the eldest Hawke's side to clasp her shoulder.

"Three legends- _Four_ legends." Morrigan let Parthena's ear go, the pale skin going red ever so slightly. "Four legends to travel to the Hissing Wastes and disrupt the Venatori." The three waited for the Inquisitor, Ayre furrowing her brows.

"We would be venturing out? Two… well, one warrior, two mages and a rogue?"

"No. The Hero of Ferelden, Champion of Kirkwall, Herald of Andraste, and The Witch of the Wilds." Parthena smirked, though glanced sideways to Morrigan. "We will give you a better title-"

"Bearer of Great Chest." Harlow interrupted, getting a side-long headbutt from Parthena. "Ow, Maker's tits…"

Ayre shook her head, distracted no more. "Settle down." She ordered, the others quieting. She mulled it over, knowing Josephine and even Cassandra might put up a fight against it. No doubt Leliana would extend reluctance…

But if there was truly something in the Hissing Wastes that the Venatori- that _Calpernia_ wanted, then she had no choice.

"Four Legends into the Hissing Wastes, it is."

* * *

 

"You want to go on a grand hunting expedition?" Josephine bluntly asked, the war room absolutely packed. Leliana and Cullen exchanged confused glances, but Cassandra nodded in faint approval.

"There are many exotic wildlife and herbs that we could use." Ayre reasoned, opposite her three advisors across the table. Harlow was messing with some figurine, Morrigan subtly trying to take it.

"A strong Venatori presence, as well." Leliana lifted a thin brow, casting her glance to her warden.

Parthena bowed her head, smirking faintly. "That is what we are for, darling. The Champion and I will be sure to escort Julius safely throughout the Wastes." She glanced to Morrigan, grinning. "Of course, we will still be watched carefully. You know Morrigan would never let me die. Not without throttling me first."

"Indeed, that is the plan." The witch dryly assured, watching Cullen shift uneasily. She cast her gaze to him strongly, raven hair lightly bouncing in its hold. "What, Templar?"

"The Templar Order has been abolished, Morrigan." Ayre stepped back from the table. "They are now solely members of the Inquisition."

"Impressive how you swoop in to make such changes, Julius Trevelyan." Morrigan kept her in her sights, watching the Inquisitor closely.

"That reminds me-" Cullen interrupted, Ayre turning back to him seemingly out of a reverie. "We should publicly call to transfer the switch of names. Claim that with the Inquisitor title, it was a long time coming. Each Divine is christened a new name, and we can claim one for our Inquisitor."

"I'll draft the papers up tonight. By eve of the new week, Julius Trevelyan will be on the lips of all of Thedas." Josephine nodded, Leliana smirking faintly.

"Some more than others, no?" She waggled her brows, Harlow clapping a hand to the table in laughter. Thankfully, most of the figurines were stabbed into the table…

"Leliana." Josephine scolded, face coloring dark.

"My, my… a lady killer. How intriguing." Morrigan cast her gaze over Ayre again, the Inquisitor shuffling uncomfortably.

"At any rate-" The redhead began, sighing. "We will be heading into the Hissing Wastes come dawn." She glanced to Josephine, the ambassador seeming a little disappointed.

"At first light; this night is still ours, however." Parthena assured, letting the room breathe. "We'll bring back the herbs, and a wyvern or fifty." She teased, chuckling lowly.

"I'm still uncertain if this is a good idea." Cullen sighed, rubbing his stubble. "Three greatly powerful people all leaving Skyhold at the same time; Not to mention with the Occult Advisor to Celene?"

"That is my title." Morrigan cocked a brow, Harlow gesturing wildly to the witch.

"I like this one." She grinned, sidling closer to Morrigan.

"Only in your highest of dreams, Hawke." The witch bristled, doing nothing more to dissuade the other mage.

Ayre shook her head, Cassandra coming to her side. "Are you certain on this course of action?" The seeker rested a hand at her back, rubbing gently.

"I am, thank you. We'll be fine, and we will be gone only a week. I hear there is Nevarrite that is a beautiful deep pink hue." Ayre teased the elder, Cassandra seeming to mull over the offer before nodding.

"We will be fine, I promise."

* * *

 

Josephine sighed once the night came on, and her day of business came to a close. "I do hope the those Orlesian chevaliers arrive on time." She murmured quietly to herself, giving a longing gaze towards the Inquisitor's quarters.

"What are they up to?" The ambassador had an inkling it wasn't just about a hunting expedition. Tutting softly, Josephine put it out of her mind for now. Retiring to her chambers, she gently pulled her hairpin out.

Luscious dark curls fell over her back, and the Antivan sighed with faint relief.

"You are too beautiful-" Another dagger was hurled, though this one was caught.

"Julius!" Josephine hushed a scolding tone, Ayre's brows high with amusement. The redhead twirled the dagger between her fingers, chuckling lowly.

"You said tonight we would meet in your chambers… less chance of interruption, correct?" The Inquisitor stood from the cushioned lounger, a light smirk at her lips. She eased her own unruly curls from her silver clasp, setting it away.

"I did." Josephine covered her chest to regain her composure, wetting her lips. Ayre set the dagger away, coming closer to slip her hands onto the elder's hips.

"Any more daggers I should know about?" Drowned eyes sparkled, and the Antivan's lower lip quivered.

"No; none." Amber watched her closely, flush coming to her cheeks. Strong hands looped around for the bow, golden satin coming loose.

"Is this alright?" The younger paused, gaining her gaze securely.

"Yes… please?" Josephine smiled nervously, though relaxed as the younger drew closer.

"Tonight is ours… worry later." Ayre captured her lips, stifling any retort the elder may have had.

Holding the Inquisitor's shoulders tightly, Josephine fought for breath once the kiss ended. "O-oh my…"

"I love you, Josephine Montilyet…" Ayre murmured softly, glancing over the elder's shoulder for her bed. "Will you be mine?"

Nodding, she refused to let go of the younger. "I'm not afraid..."

"I wish I could have your courage." She kissed and bit the tip of Josephine's ear, taking her hand and leading her forward.

The grand bed made her smile; the redhead remembering of how the Antivan pined for a soft bed. Haven was a simpler time…

Tongue tracing along the shell of Josephine's ear, Ayre encouraged her to express herself. Hands splayed along her body, securing a soft hold on her inner thighs.

The elder's breath hitched, feeling the bed against the back of her knees. Her hands wavered between Ayre's shoulders and back, the Inquisitor feeling her hesitance.

"You are free to touch as you'd like." She murmured, placing a wet kiss to the elder's pulse-point. Her dark skin held the faintest of flushes, feeling hands along her body with a loving shyness.

"Y-you are as well..." Fingertips traced along exposed skin, smooth and addicting as she felt their bodies heat slightly. Josephine dug her nails into bare arms, Ayre leading her to sit down.

"Should we not even be betrothed before-" The redhead's thumb silenced her, Ayre smiling softly.

"Social rules can be broken."

Shivering again, the elder tested her boundaries alongside her own courage. The coolness hadn't stopped her from pressing her own lips softly to the other woman's.

The curve of Josephine's hips meshed with Ayre's palms, fingers tightening and curling into the fabric of the woman's tunic as she kissed back. Lips meshing, the younger pulled back with a subtle lick.

"W-was that a-alright?" At least she had half a brain still to ask. Josephine's hands had found their way into silky red strands, the sheer look and feel of arousal was prominent with them and the atmosphere.

"Perfect." Truth be told, it was all she could do to stop herself from bending Josephine over and giving her a good time. Ayre's face flushed a bit dark, clearing her throat but not moving.

The elder leaned in again for another tender kiss. "And you deserve no less."

"Same for you." She was...stuck. Stuck in this mood, this desire to have Josephine. It was maddening... "Thank you."

"I'm not sure I understand?" She placed a few small kisses at the Inquisitor's jawline, completely enthralled by this feeling.

"Understand what?" Tilting her head up to allow Josephine further access, the younger grasped onto her hips tighter.

"Why you're..." The brunette flicked her tongue out after each defining kiss, savoring Ayre's skin. "Thanking me."

"For taking care of me." Closing her eyes and swallowing roughly, Ayre refrained from tossing Josephine to the bed.

Stopping completely, she looked her in the eyes; amber meeting abyssal green. "You've taken care of me, so I shall take care of you."

"How will you take care of me?" Ayre watched her closely, accounting every breath and movement.

"At first, I hadn't the slightest clue..." Closing the distance between them once more, she peered up through her lashes at her curious leader abashedly. "Your health needs tending and perhaps your wants as well?"

"Perhaps indeed." Ayre gave a faint smile, sitting beside Josephine on the bed. Arousal was charging between them, that much was true, but they were still just admitting it.

Her breath hitched, that body blush returning in the slightest. The elder woman gazed back longingly as she chewed her own lip.

"Breathtaking..." Admissions be damned. Drawing closer, the younger kissed Josephine softly.

Like a bolt to the brain, the raw emotion generated by that kiss alone was far from humanly possible. At least that's what the logical part of Josephine's brain told her as she kissed back.

Hands becoming busy, Ayre felt the elder tug at the strings of her tunic to pause her.

Sliding her hands up to each side of Ayre's face, the elder admired each detail of her beloved. "I love you..."

"...I love you, too." She needed to be slow. This could very well be Josephine's first time with someone… someone like her?

"You should be resting..." Laying on her side, the soft-spoken woman trailed her hand alongside the redhead's face. Soft...very soft.

"I am." Leaning into the faint touch, pale skin gained a bit of healthy color. Sharp features softened by the shadows, the redhead moving closer.

"...Beautiful..." Even less audible, Josephine whispered adoration and silent praise for her beloved.

"You even more so." Ayre whispered in a tone matching Josephine's, kissing the tip of the woman's pinky.

"May… may I kiss you again, like before?" A minute hint of embarrassment was overshadowed by love. Anything and everything of her would belong to the Inquisitor.

"Mm, you may. Though you don't have to ask." Ayre's lips twitched into a grin as she moved closer, the sheets rustling.

Leaning in more, she pressed her lips to Ayre's; a quick peck at first, then a slow and tender mesh.

Kissing the quiet woman was like a maelstrom; pulling Ayre in and leaving her dizzy. The tender kisses passed between them slowly became something more, and the redhead wondered if sleep or rest were to be had. Not that she minded, of course.

"Ah… sorry. Got carried away." Breathlessly, Josephine pulled back enough to smile. Her hand had woven into crimson strands again.

"You don't hear me complaining." The younger smirked a bit before trailing the tip of her tongue along her ambassador's bottom lip.

A small whimper escaped her lips as her own tongue flickered out in response. That same overbearing, primal heat returned with a quickening pulse.

"Mm..." Ayre led a hand along Josephine's side before she engaged in a slow, deep kiss with the quiet woman.

The elder began to chalk this up to a point of no return as she let her own hand roam the Inquisitor's body. Oh, the spell she had on her.

Lips moist, the younger pulled back and peered into dark eyes, hearing a soft crack of thunder roll though the sky.

"Funny...that's how your kiss affected me." Josephine kept the blush, squirming a bit.

Chuckling softly, jade endearingly gazed to the woman before Ayre pulled closer and continued.

In the midst of their liplock, Josephine managed to pull the younger atop her. A tiny, desperate whimper squeaked out again.

"Lovely woman..." Crimson falling around them, Ayre licked the Antivan's lips again.

The surge of heat, sparked from that simple action was mentally and emotionally blinding. She could practically hear her own pulse beat an erratic tune.

Nimble fingers found the faint strings of Josephine's corset, and with a few tugs, Ayre watched the dress open.

The elder looked away abashedly, the cool air of being more so exposed made her squirm a bit.

"Your skin is very tender..." Ayre found her stomach to be very warm, the woman smoothing her palm over the area.

Finally making eye contact nervously, Josephine sat up a bit. "Tender?"

"Mm; soft. Fragile..." The younger dipped to place a kiss just above her navel.

"Hn..." A darker blush appeared, tracing down her body. "Y-you do have soft skin yourself..."

Smiling lightly, the fair-skinned woman moved closer and lay her ear to Josephine's chest, listening to her rapid heartbeat. The odd antics were not complete without Ayre idly cupping the side of the dark-haired woman's face.

Grasping onto the Inquisitor's hand, she kissed each fingertip. This was strangely arousing, peaceful, and romantic all at the same time.

Pulling back after the gentle kisses, Ayre's hands went to her own tunic; Splaying the collar to tug it off completely.

"W-wait..." Josephine's hands went atop the younger's, stopping her movements. "May I?"

"Of course." Ayre's smile grew just a bit, bright eyes watching her closely.

Taking a slower breath, lithe fingers undid the last of the strings. "Very gorgeous..."

It was getting harder to restrain herself, but a look into soft amber eyes made the reason for restraint disappear. She tilted her head subtly to the side, asking a question.

"Hm?" Sliding the fabric of Ayre's hindering tunic off her shoulders, the soft-spoken woman smiled.

Pushing the article off the bed, her gaze softened as she looked back to Josephine. "Are you sure you're ready to do this?" It seemed she was, since Josephine hadn't rejected her advances thus far.

"If you want… that is part of the reason you hadn't let anyone else have me, right?" She blushed, idly licking her lips.

"Mm. I told you, when I walked in, you were mine." Ayre moved onto her knees, sitting up straighter.

"Then… claim me. Make me yours." Josephine sat up completely; a pleading look in her eyes. Seems fate had it that they would be together.

Cupping the elder's face, Ayre kissed her soundly before laying her down; sheets rustling softly under them as the kiss deepened.

Situating herself beneath the elder, Josephine smiled into the kiss. A searing hot reminder of the level of bareness struck when their chests met.

"Your skin is very warm." The younger pulled back, a bit surprised by it.

"I..." Oh, she couldn't voice the reason why her flesh was set aflame. A kiss to the nose would have to suffice.

A part of her mind wondered if the others knew what they were doing, but of course, she didn't care. Kissing Josephine's full lips again, Ayre trailed a path down.

"A-ah..." The elder squirmed again, shivering slightly. It was strange to have such thought and care put into the simplest of acts.

Hands winding around to the back of the elder's woman's thighs, Ayre melded them with her palms; the elder feeling the heated skin delicately. The idle flowing fabric of Josephine's dress was beginning to get in the way...

"Y-your skin is cold..." The brunette blushed, watching Ayre's actions and reactions. She felt she should be tending to the devilish woman instead.

"Perhaps." Catching something in a dark eye, Ayre gave a slow and subtle smirk. "You want to be the one doing this, don't you?"

"...I would like… to take care of you." Josephine blushed, chewing on her lip and let her eyes drift along the younger's torso.

"Whatever the lady wants." Ayre smiled as she moved back up to kiss her.

Kissing back, she pulled Ayre closer, trailing kisses along the elder's jaw. Occasionally, the Antivan would have the nerve to nibble just a bit.

"Mn..." It felt nice to actually feel something for someone. To feel a want, a need, and a desire.

Continuing each adoring kiss, Josephine slid a hand along her beloved's stomach. She would never be able to express this perfect feeling… Ayre was her Heaven.

Straddling Josephine, the redhead tilted her head along with each kiss as her eyes soon shut. The dark-haired woman's hand sparked sensitivity, trailing down her shoulder.

"You're perfection..." Her tongue flickered out, fingers teasingly heading lower. The anticipation coiled within the pit of her stomach.

"Close." Ayre murmured, tilting her head back as her brows furrowed faintly.

She nibbled a little harder, murmuring the woman's name. "Julius…"

Getting a bit cold, the redhead moved closer and pressed into Josephine with a murmur of the woman's name, urging her on.

"Mm..." Letting her hand slip passed the remaining cloth barrier, the younger woman grazed more… intimate areas.

A breath escaped from the pale woman's throat, Ayre's hands finding purchase onto Josephine's breasts. "Ah..."

She nibbled on the redhead's earlobe, moaning softly; a sort of lover's croon as the younger woman continued to stimulate her.

"Josephine..." The younger's voice shook just enough to matter.

Pleased to hear her own name laced with ecstasy, Josephine continued still. Her back arched, pressing her body into Ayre's in reflex.

Pressing back into her, the younger dipped her head to bite the dark-haired woman's ear, stifling whatever she could.

Those teeth were pretty… sharp. "Mm..." Josephine kept on with the loving nips and kisses.

Hands beginning to shake from the pleasure shocking her system, Ayre grabbed the elder tight and bit her shoulder.

"A-ah..." The smaller woman squirmed, jolting slightly from the initial sting of teeth puncturing her flesh.

She was glad she was able to hold back, just a tiny bite could have been much more. Ayre murmured an apology, licking the faint mark.

"Don't be sorry..." She slowed her pace, keeping a pattern of ebb and flow.

"Must have hurt." The Inquisitor seemed calm, yet her arms wrapped around Josephine tighter as she went with the flow.

"Only for a moment..." The brunette found the concern to be thoughtful… but this was to be about Ayre, and she'd make sure of it.

Perhaps Josephine would figure it out, she was a smart woman after all. Ayre's body jolted when she focused again, soon losing her mind over to the soft touches.

She kissed the redhead's temple, whispering declarations of love and devotion. Questions were to be had...later.

"You're so loving..." The younger murmured back, her body shivering as she clung to Josephine more.

"And you're quite lovable." Bringing their bodies closer, she kissed along her beloved's neck, wrapping an arm around her.

Releasing an icy breath down to Josephine, the redhead held her close as their skin touched with heat. Her heart was still beating fast, yet her own was just a bit over calm.

"Mm… chilly..." She smiled up at her beloved, the redheaded Free Marcher that stole her heart.

The elder chuckled, moving to lay beside Josephine briefly before she undid the rest of the dark-haired woman's dress. "Let's warm you up then, hm?"

"But you're the one that's cold..." Blushing instantly, Josephine still complied with every guiding movement.

"Oh?" Ayre took a moment to look at the hand that was resting at the woman's lower stomach. Her nails had grown, just a bit, and her core temperature was a little under. The mark had spread…

"When we wake, I'll be better. But while we are still right here..." The redhead winked a drenched eye before dipping her body lower.

"A-ah...alright..." The brunette squirmed, breath hitching as she kept an eye on Ayre's hand.

"Eyes on my hand, are they?" Finally securing a blanket for them, or rather Josephine, the younger chuckled as she brought it over her back, slowly sinking under.

"T-they're beautiful… like the rest of you." Her body shook nervously yet, anticipated whatever her love would do next.

"So precious..." Ayre kissed just beneath Josephine's breasts, trailing wet kisses and flicks of her tongue down the woman's body.

"Hn..." Letting her eyes drift shut, Josephine focused on every tiny sensation the Inquisitor granted her.

"I love you, my dear. So very much." Resting her chin at the elder's navel, the younger smiled before disappearing.

"I-I love you too..." Taking a slow breath, she had never experienced anything like this before; heart beating erratically with wonder and desire.

The Inquisitor corralled Josephine's passions, faint flicks of the tongue to long strokes as she stoked the seemingly never-ending fire.

She writhed slightly, moaning her lover's name as her hands gripped the sheets. Had she an unaffected voice, surely the volume would have told everyone downstairs exactly what they were engaging in.

Ayre played with Josephine's thighs as she continued, nails edging into her skin to make faint outlines. Soft wisps of icy air puffed against the elder woman, a subtle smirk the culprit.

"A-ah...you devilish woman..." She groaned, arching her back as her eyes screwed shut. How could Ayre still be this cold?

"You love it." The owner smirked wider before she continued to stimulate the older woman, tongue spiraling.

A few ideas ran through her mind before all else was shoved away by reaching her limit. Her smaller frame shuddered as it tensed and collapsed.

Crawling back up Josephine's side, Ayre kissed her shoulder and held her close. "That wasn't too much, was it?"

Blinking a few times to focus, Josephine turned on her side, nuzzling in the crook of her lover's neck. "That was… incredible..."

"Good." Kissing the top of the woman's head, Ayre held her tight. "Do you want to get dressed, or stay like this?"

"Can we stay like this… just a little longer?" Would now be a good time to ask about the drastic temperature difference? No matter what the reason, Josephine's mind was certain with one thing: she loved Ayre.

"Of course." Ayre, careful of the elder's sensitivity, rubbed the nape of her neck and kissed her brow.

"...The mark is spreading?" Josephine's hand grasped the younger's, watching the glow come to life once more.

Ayre sighed, pressing her brow to the elder's shoulder. "Mm; it spread at Halamshiral…"

"Leliana mentioned there was a rift." Their voices were soft; whispers to preserve their privacy.

"I somehow opened it and… let the Fade take the demons, and Florianne's archers. I'm not sure how." Ayre furrowed her brows but relaxed as Josephine gently kissed her knuckles.

"Think nothing of it, my love." The Antivan softly hummed, content beyond belief. "When this is all over, we will find a way to rid you of it."

Ayre stayed silent, thinking as Josephine drifted off to sleep. Not even Corypheus himself could take the Anchor from her hand…

What luck could a mortal have?

* * *

 

"Are we to walk?" Morrigan's brow cocked high, bristling at seeing no carriage in wait. Parthena curled a lip to smirk, the witch giving her a warning look.

"We won't be walking." The Inquisitor assured, tugging the reins of a beast. "Morrigan, I think you might appreciate your mount?"

The Bog Unicorn, or so it was named; a desecrated corpse of a sturdy horse, a sword plunge through its skull. Morrigan appeared fascinated immediately, though Parthena looked paler than usual.

"What in the Maker's name is that?" The warden stared, easing away to her horse.

"It was gifted by an unknown source." Ayre smirked faintly, pleased to have Morrigan happy to some degree. "It once belonged to an evil marauder…"

"You, then?" Morrigan tossed the insult with ease, giving the Inquisitor heavy pause. "Oh yes, I know of you. Julius." The witch caught her eye, but Parthena blocked her gaze.

"She knows many things, unfortunately." The warden kept her voice down, shaking Ayre from her reverie. The witch of the Korcari wilds knew of her past…?

"Do not lose sight, Julius." Parthena gently settled a hand to the nape of her neck, compelling her to calm. The Inquisitor took a breath, closing her eyes to exhale slowly.

"Thank you." Ayre murmured softly, fade-drenched vision clearing slightly. She felt something as Parthena took her hand away, and grasped the elder's wrist.

"You're wearing a ring?" The Inquisitor cocked a brow, giving the warden pause. The silver band was almost easy to miss…

Morrigan cast her golden gaze over, the witch noticed the ring as well. She froze, one hand coming to her lips. "Well, well… what have we here?" She drew closer, almost mesmerized as she kept her voice low.

"You've kept it after all this time…?"

Feeling intrusive, Ayre eased away from the two. Parthena seemed embarrassed, the warden sputtering softly.

"Hawke, you must be tired; Having to go into hiding?" The mage glanced up, grinning crookedly as she brushed her mare.

"It wasn't as bad as it sounds. Being Inquisitor sounds much worse."

Ayre rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned into the castle wall. "If it were you, then yes. But for me? Also yes."

"Heard you got swallowed by an avalanche at Haven?" Harlow tossed another grin, the Inquisitor chuckling lowly.

"Not quite… Out ran the snow by throwing myself into the collapsed roof of an old cabin." Ayre stared out towards the mountains, frost on her breath as she exhaled. "Maker, it must have been built on an old mining shaft… Broke three ribs and about froze to death on the trek following after them."

"Cassandra says I did die; once I found them. That I hit my knees and took one last breath before she took me into her arms." The younger remembered, wetting her lips. She swallowed roughly, the time at Haven almost having been a memory.

"Rough stuff…" Harlow spared her a moment, shaking her head. She followed the younger woman's gaze to the sky, the two silent in thought.

"It really fucks you up, doesn't it?" Hawke spoke softly, moving closer. "That you might really be the best the world has to offer; that only you could fix it? I couldn't even keep my sister alive; how could I save this world?"

Ayre clenched her jaw, closing her eyes to force back the tears. "You and I have more in common, it seems." She managed to choke out, struck by the suddenness of it all.

"Julius." Parthena again; the warden's hand closed around her wrist. Hawke winced, edging away to Morrigan. She'd done enough damage, it seemed…

"Everything will be alright." Parthena softly assured, helping the Inquisitor stand strong. "In the Hissing Wastes, you'll get your revenge. I promise you."

Revenge… Ayre lifted her gaze from the ground, squaring her shoulders as she faced the warden. "You know." Not a question, but a nod was given in answer.

Would she take revenge, if she met Calpernia on even ground? The Inquisitor thought back to Sahrnia; how she had promised to make that witch beg for her life. Frost met her breath again, eyes clouding over before Parthena could distract her.

But, wasn't she trying to be merciful? To be fair? What even was mercy other than another tool to be used to hurt? That Envy demon was right; chasing after her violent reactions, begging to know her…

Violence was her true self- "Julius!" Parthena hissed, a spark of something covering Ayre's hand.

Snapping from her reverie, the Inquisitor clenched her hand shut.

"You are drawing on the Fade…" The warden softly spoke, brows furrowed. "That will be dangerous for those around you. I will need to teach you restraint."

"Do you not ever tire of teaching?" Ayre bit, voice low but angry. "Why not just snuff out a problem instead of working around it?"

Ice met fade-drenched eyes, Parthena narrowing her gaze. "Because my _problem_ draws much more than the Fade." Flicking her gaze over Ayre's shoulder, the Inquisitor followed suit.

Leliana had come down from the rookery to bid them off, pausing to see to Hawke. "-she was a lovely young woman, and I am sorry." The redhead consoled the mage, wiping the younger's eyes.

"She always loved a story." Parthena sighed, steering Ayre towards their mounts once more. "Always was attracted to the dangerous ones with short lifespans." The warden tried to tease, but there was no warmth there.

"I hope you know… I have no interest. I love Lady Montilyet." Ayre confessed over, Parthena pausing by her horse.

"Then when I die-"

"I'm afraid I won't take up your mantle, no." The Inquisitor caught her eye once more, ice burning.

"That is a shame." Parthena turned away, leaving Ayre confused. "She… is quite taken with you."

Leliana drew closer after leaving Hawke to Cassandra, the seeker with arms full. "Are you bullying our Inquisitor again?" She draped herself along Parthena's back, winking to her fellow redhead.

Ayre forced a grin, turning her head to allow them privacy. Perhaps months ago, she would have openly welcomed Leliana's advances. What had changed, and how? Was she always so despicable?

"Julius can't escape her head, so I hope our hunting trip is just the thing to do it." Parthena turned to hold Leliana for a moment, gently kissing her.

Taking her warden's hand, the spymaster felt something and pulled away. "What is this?" She cocked a brow, holding up the hand with the ring.

Ayre glanced over, stifling a smirk as she mounted her horse. Parthena cleared her throat, catching the Inquisitor's eyes. "It's enchanted, for luck." She lied smoothly, kissing Leliana softly again before mounting up herself.

"Morrigan, Hawke… shall we?"

"We shall, indeed." Morrigan took up onto the Bog Unicorn, seeming rather fond of the unique animal. As the others mounted up; Hawke smiling again and joking to Parthena over something, Ayre caught Josephine's gaze.

The Antivan rose a hand, cheeks flush and hair barely out of place. She had stayed the full night, had clung when dawn arose. The redhead smiled back to her lover, raising her hand in salute to her chest; over the heart with fingers gently curled.

She would control this Anchor… despite everything.

"Josie… why do you think they declined a carriage?" Leliana cocked a brow, returning to her friend's side.

"Perhaps to provide more camaraderie? I know the Hero of Ferelden chose to walk instead of ride her horse when the Fifth Blight was rampaging, no?" Josephine gently nudged Leliana, the spymaster chuckling softly.

"She always said she never wanted to miss a word I said. She was ever so romantic… She still is." Crystal blue held endless love, and Josephine sighed happily.

"The Hissing Wastes does hold several minerals of rarity… Perhaps a wondrous area to mine for materials for a ring of proposal?" Josephine eyed her friend, brows waggling just so.

"Oh, Josie… you are too hopeful!"

* * *

 

"Three mages and a rogue-King of Thedas." Hawke hummed obnoxiously as they took camp in the desert; the wind making the sand beneath them shift and breathe.

"Rogue-King?"

"Of Thedas-"

"-no, what do you mean?" Ayre cocked a brow, then looked to Parthena. "She knew you were a mage?"

"She tries to hold the mantle of Templar up to disguise the lyrium. Knew she was a mage straight away." Hawke took a swig from a bottle, smirking to the warden.

Morrigan clicked her tongue softly, having been forced around the campfire. "As for your new _title_ , I believe Hawke means you hold the key to our salvation?"

"Exactly." The Champion caught the Inquisitor's eyes across the flame, staring her down. "I killed Corypheus once before, no doubt on that. To hear his name, again? I've failed, and I can't even explain how or why." The cheery mage sighed, burying her face in one hand. "Sometimes it feels as if one gives their all and it means nothing."

"It isn't nothing." Parthena spoke up, settling a hand onto Hawke's shoulder. The younger mage immediately lightened, and Ayre had a lingering suspicion. How was it that the warden could almost hear their thoughts…?

"Your efforts are everything, Harlow. You know how to fight Corypheus, and that knowledge is desperately needed." The eldest of them smirked softly, a bit more ash in her hair than black.

"Just as I am needed, to take that Archdemon down."

"We don't think it's a true Archdemon; no blight has seem to begun, nor are darkspawn invading." Ayre interrupted, adjusting a slicer on her back. "Which I am very glad for… because most of the Grey Wardens have gone missing."

"We are a rare breed… they may have gone into hiding, or like me, this calling is driving them insane." Parthena closed her eyes, ice hidden away for a moment. "Until it ends, I fear I may make mistakes."

Morrigan glanced to the warden again, and then to the ring adorned on her hand. "It is strong." She agreed, taking a moment to pause. "You are stronger."

Ice opened again, Parthena direct a soft and shy smile to the witch. "Thank you."

Ayre shook her head, gazing out towards where they came riding through. Their horses were secured, the sands coursing over the plane as if alive. In the distance, she swore she heard just the faintest of chanting…

"Well-" Harlow tossed her empty bottle down, standing to grasp her staff. "Are we hunting, or not?" Her teeth were faintly stained by the red of her ale, eyes illuminated by fire. For a moment, she truly looked powerful…

Ayre regained her smile, standing to encourage. "We hunt." She confirmed, Parthena being the last to rise as she chuckled.

"Tis not good, for those we will be stalking. I will find it most enjoyable." Morrigan smirked, catching the Inquisitor's eye. Gold smoldered to wink, and the witch transformed into a raven to soar into the dark.

"She's scouting ahead." Parthena noted, Harlow absolutely bewitched by the action.

"Why the hell can't I do that? Do you know what I would have given to be a Mabari five years ago?" The Champion watched until she could no longer see Morrigan, rubbing her eyes in disbelief.

"Come on." Ayre chuckled softly, though eyed Parthena. What else was the elder keeping secret; hidden to others even if not on purpose?

It seemed as though the warden was… _grooming_ her; taking the Inquisitor under her wing to guide. Perhaps this was intentional, but perhaps it was also sinister…

The chanting grew stronger, and Ayre heard Morrigan give a wicked screech. She had found the first of their prey, it seemed.

"Mm… there they are. Certainly not hiding from anyone, are they?" Settling her side against a dune as she surveyed the camp below, Parthena smirked softly. "A pittance for you is a feast for lesser beings, Inquisitor." She glanced to Ayre at her side, giving a low hum. "Shall we let them feast?"

What was the warden speaking of-? Ayre cast her gaze back down to the camp, noticing a varghest wandering with a few of its pack a distance away. Attention returning to Parthena, the Inquisitor smirked. "Let them feast."

Nodding, the warden stood to trespass over the dune. Morrigan swooped in to land at her side, the duo moving in towards the camp. The chanting stopped, a few shouts ringing out before all had blood choked in their throats.

Harlow watched in absent terror as Morrigan worked blood magic on the small group; veins being pulled taut to wrench every last bit of blood to the surface. Parthena drew on the cultist's mage's lyrium; breathing it from the blood before letting the man drop.

Ayre swallowed hard as Morrigan followed suit; the men still alive but paralyzed beyond all thought. As the elder two returned, the varghest pack made way to quickly clear the camp.

"I hope this doesn't change opinions?" Parthena asked lowly, Harlow standing up from the dune. Morrigan was quick to gage reactions; A soft chuckle flowing from her throat.

"Frightened, but impressed." She deduced of her fellow mage, Harlow unable to do anything but nod in agreement.

Unwavering gold returned to the Inquisitor, and narrowed just the slightest. Was she harder to read, or was the reaction unfavorable?

"Parthena… do you know of the Ciriane legend about the Varghest?" Ayre spoke gently, her swallowed gaze flickering to the exotic beasts. She noticed the warden take up position beside her, the elder giving her an appraising look.

It was clear she had some knowledge of it, but the warden nodded to allow the Inquisitor to continue. The younger woman suppressed a shudder from another ghostly wind, gaze returning to the now bloodied path.

"The legend claims that the varghest hunts those that have committed great wrongs against their own kin." Ayre began, speaking louder for the other two to hear. Harlow furrowed her brows, leaning onto her staff.

"When the beast finds its quarry, it drags its guilty prey to the Gods for judgment." Pausing, the Inquisitor looked to Parthena once more.

The warden kept silent, mulling over her next words. She settled her great hand upon the redhead's shoulder, pinky and ring finger touching bare skin. "You wonder when the varghest will come for you?" She asked, voice barely above the skeleton wind.

Ayre stilled, every essence waiting for the strike. Parthena seemed to sense it, and only chuckled softly as she removed her hand. "Back to camp, hm? We can discuss our next move."

Why did her sense of dread not alleviate itself? Ayre followed third, with Morrigan bringing up the rear. Harlow seemed to be contemplating the tale; looking over her shoulder twice and thrice for the varghest trail.

"There are a collective of ruins scattered about this place." Morrigan spoke, taking her seat first around the dying fire. It wasn't particularly chilly, but Harlow added another log and spark to stoke the flame.

"I believe that they seek something most powerful in the tombs… Perhaps we shall find what we seek as well."

"And who we seek." Harlow added, grinning softly. Ayre smiled along with her, drying her palms against her trousers.

"Julius… I have a question, if I may?" Parthena sat opposite the Inquisitor, ice boring into Fade. She received a nod, and continued. "What exactly happened at Therinfal Redoubt?"

Immediately, Ayre felt sweat at the back of her neck; hairs standing on end. "I suspected Leliana sent you letters since the explosion of the Conclave?"

"She did, and I may have read more reports than I should have. But, you never went into an extreme detail… So, what happened at Therinfal Redoubt?" Parthena kept steady eye-contact, as if trying to read her thoughts. Could she?

Ayre swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "We had decided to side with the Templars; I decided. I thought using more magic upon the Breach would only worsen it; I thought suppression was necessary."

All eyes were on her now, Harlow propping her head up against her staff as she listened. The Inquisitor's voice was low, her accent dulcet and gentle unlike her manner.

"We arrived upon the fortress with our nobles-" Ayre swallowed, clearing her throat and softly apologizing. "One of which was murdered on my behalf when it became clear that the Templars had been… misguided-"

"Don't." Parthena narrowed her eyes, interrupting. "Don't use your social graces, here. We are in the desert, Julius. In the heart of the Hissing Wastes. Speak your mind."

"...The Templars had gone mad; losing their way under Lord Seeker Lucius, who had turned out to actually be a demon of Envy." Ayre continued on, rubbing her hands together slowly. "It… took me. Took my mind; invaded my body and locked me into my own consciousness."

Morrigan narrowed her eyes, listening as intently as Parthena. Harlow only seemed worried; eyes scanning the Inquisitor for any lingering traces.

"What did it show you?" Parthena softly asked, keeping the younger's eyes locked to ice.

"It showed me… my true core. Violent, angry; a warlord conquering all of Thedas. It showed me Celene's assassination; Josephine imprisoned and Leliana… executed, all by my hands." Ayre paused, looking down to her palms. The Anchor reflected her gaze, in both color and reflection.

Closing her eyes, the Inquisitor continued softly. "It showed me everything I had ever done, and everything I would go on to do, if it took my form. Violence, murder, blood… Everything."

"It changed you." Parthena hummed lowly, tilting her head. "Leliana wrote that you have been… different since then."

"Immediately after, Corypheus attacked. Well, we were able to close the Breach… then Haven was lost to a monster." Ayre buried her face into her hands for a moment, exhaling a shaky breath.

"Are you Andrastian, Julius?" The warden knew, of course.

"Yes. Devout… especially after the Conclave. Waking with this thing on my hand, not remembering my past… All I could remember was the Canticles. Leliana was getting upset; I couldn't answer their questioning through my prayers. I think I unsettled her, you know?" Ayre chuckled lowly, raising her head. "Red hair, mark of the Breach on my hand? Only speaking the Canticles? I'm surprised she didn't try to convince Cassandra I _was_ Andraste."

"Perhaps she did. You have much in common with her." Parthena smiled, though Morrigan softly snorted.

"And yet she too was killed; burned at the stake then took a blade through the heart, one final act of mercy." Morrigan spoke, the other three seeming surprised. "Though I think it a foolish notion, I _am_ knowledgeable of it."

"They say Andraste birthed only daughters, and destroyed any record of their lines to protect them. Many claim to be her descendants, but all are turned away by the Chantry." Parthena tilted her head, smiling. "Perhaps you are one of Andraste's descendants, hm? No one else could be able to wield that mark as you do, no matter who inflicted it upon you."

"I think we should stop blaspheming." Ayre teased, chuckling softly as she stared into the flames. She closed her eyes, taking a breath. It felt good to relieve herself of these worries…

"You should know-" Morrigan glanced over her shoulder, bristling. "I think the other Venatori found their ruined camp."

"Then Calpernia should be amongst them. We'll take out the zealots; leave her to Julius." Parthena commanded, rising with Harlow.

"You've got to teach me how to be a bird." Hawke nudged Morrigan gently, surprised at the chuckle she gained.

"We shall see." Morrigan winked, the three of them crossing down the dunes with the Inquisitor behind them. The sands began to whip; chanting rising in volume as they descended upon the Venatori.

Ayre scanned the camp amongst the sand and ruin, finding the former slave. "Calpernia!" She shouted, gaining the witch's gaze.

The blonde mage cackled softly, disappearing in a whirl of scriptures. The four descended into a sea of Venatori; scores more than tenfold.

"You are not getting away from me…" Ayre vowed softly, entering into a dance as she wielded her daggers with ferocity.

"Leave them to me." Hawke commanded, striding into the very heart of the battlefield. She squared her shoulders, stone materialising to layer upon her flesh. She struck one Venatori down with her fist alone; thrusting her staff into the ground. With the fresh blood layered upon the desert, she called upon the life within. The crystal grains of sand mixed with the blood, rising in spires to pierce all those who surrounded her.

Their cries cut short by their own blood adding into the magic, changing the terrain of the very desert itself.

"Where are you, you bitch?!" Ayre twirled, ending back to back with a zealot; daggers crossed at the front of his throat. She ripped her arms forward, slitting his throat and storming forward.

"The last Trevelyan; such a ring to that, isn't there?" Focusing on that voice, Ayre strode into the entrance of the tomb. She knew this was most likely a trap; and herself willingly lured into it, but she didn't care.

All she wanted was Calpernia dead.

"Come out and face me!" The Inquisitor shouted into the empty tomb, hearing her voice echo. In fact, that was all she heard. No distant sounds of fighting… A barrier?

"This was far easier than I thought it would be." Calpernia sneered from behind a column, Ayre whirling around to face her.

This was the first time the Inquisitor was able to clearly see Calpernia, and she was left rattled. "You… you're my age." Ayre dumbly muttered, causing a brief pause in the former slave.

"The only similarity, I assure you." The blonde sneered, obviously wanting to goad.

"Your teeth are like Lilith's." It seemed the Inquisitor was stuck, even her daggers hung limply at her side.

Calpernia cocked a brow, seeming skeptical of whether or not the Inquisitor was trying to trap her in turn. "The gap?" She furrowed her brows, shaking her head. "You mean _were_ , she's dead."

That seemed to snap Ayre out of it; Fade-devoured gaze sparking her Anchor. "You bitch!" She growled, surging forward.

The mage easily diverted her into the stone, magic pulsing within both of them. "Don't tell me you came all this way for revenge?" Calpernia smirked, freezing one of the redhead's ankles. "Sacrificing everything, your entire country's safety for a personal vendetta? How selfish."

Gritting her teeth, Ayre struggled to turn despite her frozen ankle. She finally ripped it from the sands, stifling a cry as she faced Calpernia. "You murdered my family."

"How many families did you murder, I wonder? Arlessamine, Ire of the Red Marchers…" The mage sized her up, nodding when the Inquisitor balked. "Oh, yes… I know who you are."

Calpernia paced before the redhead, watching her carefully for any movement. She hadn't bound her with a spell, but by words alone.

"I could have told your little Inquisition, your followers who you were… but I wanted to be rid of you myself; to destroy you. The Elder One simply cannot have you muddling our plans any longer."

"If you knew who I was, then you knew my family had already disowned me! What was the point in hurting them; in killing Lilith?!" Ayre hit the pillar, metal singing; a chain unearthed from ages of dust.

"How do you destroy a warlord with no ties? You had no lovers I could take, so I took what I could. I had hoped you would be affected, but I never dreamed you would be so distraught." Calpernia's top lip curled as she smirked. "Especially since you never issued protection for them. There were no soldiers, no chevaliers… only the Nightingale's agents."

Ayre bit the inside of her cheek hard, careful not to draw blood. This woman was from Tevinter, after all…

"You don't deny?" The former slave clicked her tongue, gaze piercing the redhead's.

"You truly are a coward." Calpernia huffed, pulling her staff close to herself. "It will not be a shame to kill you."

Ayre locked her jaw, striking forward to meet Calpernia's staff. Seemed the mage was no stranger to close quarters fighting…

She had to be careful not to make contact with Calpernia unless it was a guaranteed kill-strike. If she drew the mage's blood, or if her own was spilt- "Bitch!" Ayre spat to the side, the mage having headbutt her.

Cackling, the blonde shoved the redhead away from her. She snapped her fingers, the Inquisitor's wrist frozen to the pillar this time. Her anchor flared to life, Ayre crying out in pain. It was as if Calpernia could manipulate it…

"The Elder One believes he can enter the Black City without this… but he will reward me so much sooner if he has it." Calpernia kept her distance, as smart as she was cruel. She drew a dagger, leaning her staff against another pillar.

Ayre wrestled against the freezing cuff on her wrist, pulling against it with all of her might. Ice dug into her skin, breaking but splintering and drawing blood. Watching it soak onto the unearthed chain, the Inquisitor trembled with nerve-wracking pain.

She couldn't move… The one thing surging with power was also to be her downfall. Her hand convulsed, the pain paralyzing her. She was as frozen as her wrist, fear greatly rising.

"This is too easy…" Calpernia smirked, though heard a vicious perforation; Her barrier had just been destroyed. "A shame, but a shame that will be avenged." She eyed the bloodied chain with delight, and chuckled softly.

"You are the last Trevelyan alive, but you won't be for long." With a gesture of her hand, the chain wrapped around Ayre's neck. Calpernia manipulated the bloodied coating and pulled the Inquisitor into her body; dagger buried deep into the redhead's gut.

"Julius!" Parthena roared, and Calpernia disappeared into scripture once more on the wind. Ayre stood still, feeling her blood stain the front of her tunic and run down her trousers. The chain fell limply at her back, and the Inquisitor bowed forward into Parthena's arms.

"Damn it…" The unshakeable warden cursed, pulling the redhead against her as she knelt. "Hold on." Parthena placed her hands over the wound; blood bubbling over to coat pale skin. Crimson was hot between her fingers, sticky and smelling of boiled iron…

"I was so… stupid…" Ayre winced, blood painting her lips just barely. More would follow through her throat with a cough, stained enamel gritting against the pain. She saw the healing glow of Parthena's hands, but no warmth followed. "You're cold… I'm cold?"

"Julius, be quiet." The warden grumbled, screwing her brows together. There was a cut on her brow and sweat at her cheeks; the only indication she'd been in battle. "There's no other… Julius?"

"W-what, what are you-?"

"Do you remember when you asked when the varghest would come for you?" Parthena asked, her voice grave. Blood was spilling fast, and there was only one sure way to stop it now.

"Y-yes- Parthena, don't do-"

The warden only smiled down to her, lifting one of her hands to cut. "I am the varghest!" She slammed her bleeding hand against the wound; sacrificing herself of energy to try and save the Inquisitor. Parthena had only used blood magic to heal once more, but her charge did not survive.

How could they have, when infecting them with her blood was a death sentence itself? But if this young woman, this extreme pillar of strength… if _Julius_ could survive all she had been through, perhaps she could survive being tainted.

If the Inquisitor survived, she would be a forced Grey Warden…

If she perished, all of Thedas would fall.

* * *

**AN: YES IT IS FINALLY OUT. I was very enthused to writing this (as I wrote it all within a week, phew). I had it all planned out in my head an it came to fruition beautifully. Please, comment, and thank you for sticking with me! Don't worry, there is plenty more to come!**


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